Exploring Myself

So one day I’m standing in my shower. And when I’m in the shower, usually …I’m naked. I just stood there, water ricocheting off my back, staring at myself. Now, it wasn’t like I was admiring my six-pack or pouting over my lack-of-a-six-pack. It was more like one of those moments a person has straight out of American Beauty, staring at a plastic bag dancing around in the wind, inspiring thoughts of the world around you and your place in the bigger scheme of things. Beautiful. I was having that moment nude in a shower, staring at my little buddy. And he was staring back up at me. A staring contest ensued. He blinked first.

Now that moment wasn’t me smirking with pride at the tire swing between my legs. It was about foreskin. That’s right, I’m going there. Why are we born with it? Unless you’re born into a poor third world country or you just enjoy having a bacteria-breeding flap of skin wrapped around your silly rod, you got it removed. Whatever happened to evolution? Guys with those things should not be getting laid. I’ve seen pictures and uncircumcised fun poles could scare more people away than a gunshot. It’s simple Darwinism! Survival of the Fittest! That thought kept running through my head.

Then I looked at my pepperoni slices. Why in the world do I have those! They sure as hell aren’t a fashion statement. A girl doesn’t look at my flabby pecs and say, “Hot damn, I’d love to suck on those babies!” Speaking of babies, they don’t want any part of my nubs. Nothing close to sweet nourishment is going to come out of those pillow stains except a few stray hairs. Then again, nobody looks at any part of my body with much excitement. I wanted to get to the bottom of this, not to the bottom of why chicks dramatically divert their eyes away from me at the beach, but why I have those chest stamps.

Whelp, I approached this scholarly conundrum as any other Ivey Leaguer would. I typed ‘Why the fuck do I have nipples!’ into Google search, hovered my cursor over the “I’m Feeling Lucky” button, and slammed my head into the mouse as hard as I could. That day… I was feeling pretty friggin’ lucky! After I pieced together my shattered mouse, I looked at my screen to see what Google found for me. The horrors I saw on that website still haunt me to this day. Plan B? The most reliable source in the world, Wikipedia!

Apparently, when we first start growing deep within the vagina cave, no sex is assigned to us. We just start growing everything, and by the time males’ start growing their shlongs, we're already scarred with a couple of brown saucers across the chest. Yes, as a fetus, you are considered by some to be a living human being before you even have a gender! Without a gender, you are an ‘it’. So if a fetus gets aborted before fourteen weeks after contraception, it is politically correct to say, “I got rid of ‘it’.” The death certificate would read ‘it’ under sex.

After clicking a bunch of links on Wikipedia articles and getting horribly lost in knowledge, I decided to expand my research to all the strange parts of the body everyone has that nobody needs. Here’s what I compiled.

The appendix, the only purpose of which seems to be getting infected and giving you appendicitis, and eventually exploding! It’s just sitting there in your body, pretending to look like it has a purpose, pissing off all the other organs that actually work to keep the body alive. It’s ultimately a dead-end for any food that took a wrong-turn. Thought you were getting digested ham sandwich? I don’t think so! HAHA!

Even more famous are the tonsils. What are they, easy-access body tissue that doctors can practice their surgical skills on? Great excuse to eat way too much ice cream after they're taken out? Help boost your immune system? BAH! And since we’re right around the mouth, how about those wisdom teeth. Yeah, it makes perfect sense to grow out fucking sideways. Now I see why we call you the wise teeth, because you sure know how to position yourself correctly! Oh what the hell, why don’t you just grow upside down into my jaw? Fantastic! Even my baby teeth do a better job than they do. At least my baby teeth know when they need to pack it up and leave! I had to calm down; all of these worthless body parts were really getting my panties in a bunch. I ran some fingers through my hair.

Hair. Looks awesome on my head. That’s about it. My soft, smooth, mop top looks great! The big poofy Afro surrounding my genitals does not. All right, I understand that during the Ice Age body hair was essential to survival. I’m cool with the leg and arm hair, even people that have the occasional back and ass cheek hair. But what type of conditions were our ancestors pitted against requiring a big mesh of hair lodged deep within the crack of their ass? The only plausible reason I could put together is their feces getting stuck to the ends of the hair, therefore making themselves smell like ass, therefore making any predator with a sense of smell within a three-mile-radius stay the hell away from them.

Somewhere in the bible, I know it says that God created Man out of his own image. So this must mean God, the only perfect being in this universe, has a digestive track that requires a wrong way sign, a pair of tonsils that get taken out like a Mr. Potato Head accessory, four gigantic molars that grow in whatever hell direction they want, a hair infested butt cravas, a disease spawning sheath around his sword, and most importantly, nipples, which derive from the unisex fetus humans start off as. And if God has nipples, than that means he had to be a fetus at one point in his life. Thusly, this throws everything that Christianity bases’ their belief of creation on and the eternal existence of their lord almighty upside-down! Controversy!

Please remember, this all started with me standing naked in the shower, staring at my pocket rocket.