Astute readers of this occasional journal will have noticed a distinct lack of posts about armpits lately. As a matter of fact, you won't really catch me thinking about armpits, much; or even thinking about thinking about armpits much around here. It's not a topic that concerns me, particularly.
If pressed on the subject of my own armpits, I would hitherto have made expressions ranging from mild unconcern to utter indifference. I suppose I have nice armpits. They could be positively Rubenesque, paragons of the armpit world, as far as I know; I don't as a rule make a habit of scrutinising my armpits, or vainly disporting them before others on the tram. If they have their beauties, well, I am - or was - content to let those armpits be.
Well, that is, until yesterday. Idly leafing through a copy of The Melbourne Times, the rag that is dumped outside my place once every week, I came across an ad for a beauty clinic that promised to its future customers cosmetically enhanced faces, cosmetically enhanced chests, cosmetically enhanced breasts. It may even have promised to cosmetically enhance bits that had previously been cosmetically enhanced (for an additional financial enhancement). And it promised to cosmetically enhance my armpits, as well.
Apathy for my armpitular regions was gone in an instant: why, if these experts in cosmetic enhancement, in their wisdom and experience, ajudged my armpits (and who else could they be speaking to?) worthy of further cosmetic enhancement, I had to agree with them. Nothing in this world is perfect, and the armpits of this world can only share in that imperfection. And who knows what unique imperfections my own armpits might display; what lumps and knots and unsymmetrical curves might be contained within?
Compared to the beauteous Olympian armpits that have been enhanced by the cosmetical enhancements of this company, my own armpits must be demonically hideous things - along with the armpits of the rest of the unenlightened masses out there, labouring in darkness and ignorance and apathy.
I still don't think I'll get my armpits enhanced though. I'm quite happy enough with them as they are, even with their imperfections. I am, however, considering sending a lustrous lock, cropped from the fertile groves of my nether-arm, into this cosmetic enhancement company, as a token of gratitude.
It's the least I can do. (Aside from nothing, of course).
Here ends my Post about armpits.
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