I don't want turn anyone off from friendship with me...but I'm pretty gross. What I mean is that I really don't care about my appearance in any way. I try to for my wife's sake, 'cause I know that she loves it when I look good (and believe me, there are days when "I look good" -imagine me saying it in a Burgandyesque way). But if I were to be living on my own I would be a disgusting mess. My house would be clean, my dishes done, and my body a disgusting vile mess. Thats just it, I don't seem to care! I don't know why and I'm pretty sure it's unhealthy...but so it is.
When I was living the bachelor life my friend and I were going to Walmart (where all people like myself hang out) when all of a sudden we realized that we were dressed in the manner of a hobo. I was wearing my eating shirt (I spilled on myself so much that I decided to designate one shirt that I would eat in at every meal time) which was stained with ravioli, we were both wearing pajama pants that were to small, we were wearing our classic black velcroes that we bought for 8.88 at that exact Walmart only a week prior, and we had taken showers but had forgotten to do our hair. Granted I realize that if you know/knew Ryan Peters he could probably meet or beat my stories with his hobo life, but the thing is we were not trying to do or be anything, just ourselves.
And so, I don't like brushing my teeth, and if it wasn't for bad breath I would not. I don't like washing my face, and if it was not for my wife I would not. I don't like hair cuts, and if I didn't get them for free from my mom and wife who also both pester me about it I would never get it cut. And I hate shaving and if it was not for my boss at work who tells me to shave every few days I would grow an Adam Morrison MOstache. And if it wasn't for the pleasant aroma of Old Spice deodorant I wouldn't take the time of day to rub my pits with it.
I'm not going to say anymore. It's obvious enough to say that my wife didn't just save me from a world of abstinence, but also from a world of loneliness and shame. The end.