May 20, 2011 by comelookatmychesthair
Like snowflakes or puppies or stars in the sky, there are more types of chest hair than one man (or woman) can count — we even have a page to consolidate them! I think I’ve mentioned, on more than one occasion, that my hands down favorite is The Sean Connery (for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that I have this type of chest hair myself).
The following chest hair is known by many names, but here are most of them inside of a single paragraph:
The Curiously Arousing Japanese Tentacle Monster / The H.P. Lovecraft / Mother Grundle (Otherwise known as Mrs. Taintface) / Delicious Octopussy Pie / The Many-Armed Eye of Agamotto / Wink-Wink / 20 Thousand Leagues Under the Chest Hair / And on and on and on and on
You can see where it gets its name.
I considered, momentarily, writing about the somewhat curly nature of this fellow’s chest hair, but obviously the tattoo won out. Partly due to its prominence. Partly due to its awesomeness. As it so happens, this isn’t the first time we’ve covered chest hair tattoos, tatoo chest hair, or some variation thereof. The first was way back in September and I believe I endearingly referred to it as "Lite Brite but with hair.”
This tattoo’s a little different, though.
This is the sort of chest hair tattoo that comes from the deepest, darkest part of your dreams; your night terrors, if you will. It spills out through your ocular cavities during R.E.M. sleep — while your lids are flittering away — and hits the floor next to your bed with a gnarly fucking splat. Like one-month old milk. Over-curdled. Nearly solid. Rancid as a sun-baked, plague-infected corpse. So enticing.
Lovecraft’s Shoggoth Is Not Unlike Tattoo Chest Hair Monster
Maybe that’s what happened to this chest hair tattoo? It sprouted legs — or, more accurately, an infinite # of tentacles — and crawled its way over all manner of obstacle and jagged terrain to attach itself to this fellow’s unsuspecting shoulder. Where it sat. And slept. And waited. And waited. (Like the Old Ones!) For the perfect time, the precisely perfect moment, to open the gates between this world and the next.
Uh-oh! Take a gander down below! Its maw is slowly opening. This is the beginning. The beginning of the ending of all that you and I know. The veil is slowly being lifted, the creatures beyond that veil are stirring, waking, readying themselves for the consumption of all life — all existence — mothers and babies and doggies and everything. There’ll be nothing left, unfortch. Nothing but darkness and death and the creatures that made it that way. Don’t they know? Don’t they know that if they eat everything, there will be nothing left to eat and they’ll just have to go back to sleep again, but forever this time? Dear sweet lord, don’t they?!?!?
No, of course they don’t. They’re selfish little creatures. Concerned only with consumption.
And so, the door has opened and can never be closed. The neverending cosmic tattoo chest hair monsters are coming through the extra-dimensional gap for all that you hold dear. Are you ready to say goodbye? Now’s the time, little ones. Chest hair fans and chest hair haters alike — now’s the time to come together, to make amends, to hug and hope for some sort of Christmas chest hair miracle. (I’m pretty sure that was a Charlie Brown movie, or maybe just the Turkish version of one.) So long, farewell, maybe I’ll see you on the other side, but probably not. Cross my fingers…
See you next chest hair!!