I miss my hair. It's now residing in Indianapolis on Mr. Arthur Sears' head. He has a rare disease causing all his body hair to disappear. I donated mine in 1999 because I have a big heart. I expected new hair to grow back, but it never did. The Lord works in mysterious ways.
I miss my eyebrows, donated to Miss Henrietta Morse of Vermont, who paid me well so she could have Brooke Shields' eyebrows. She sends me photos sometimes and I smile in recognition. I miss those guys. In 2008 I donated my armpit hair to a hermaphrodite near Camden. Miss them too.
I don't miss the hair around my navel, distributed to a New Zealand tribe lacking basic navel coverage. I've kept my butt hair; there's only so much compassion in me.
Long distance romance with ones own hair may seem self involved and slightly peculiar. but I assure you I don't keep my nail clippings in a box. I'd probably become way too attached.
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