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Thursday 31 October 2013

Dear Puberty

Okay, so puberty, for a start,may I ask why I, of all people, have breasts? Seriously, I know a lot of people do, but the majority of them are women. Which in case you somehow haven't noticed, I am not. All they do is add insult to injury; I know I'm fat, but you don't need to show it off. Especially not by giving me oversized man-tits, damnit.

And why is my voice not gruff and deep and sexy like it's supposed to be? All it seems to do is squeak when I don't want and especially don't need it to - which makes me sound like a mouse on helium, or sometimes a drunken squirrel. Which isn't exactly helpful, as I really could do without being all squeaky when doing a presentation in front of the entire class, or chatting up the women, for example.

What did I ever do to you, anyway? Do you have some bizarre grudge against humanity? Or is it just men? Is it fat people you don't like? And another thing, why do you make people - such as myself - grow hair in strange places, like, well, you know where. What is the actual point of that? It does nothing but get in the way! And it obscures my penis. Every time I need a piss, I spend at least a minute searching for my penis in a massive tuft of hair. I think I'm turning into a wolf and it gets worse when the moon is full.

Turning into a squeaky, fat hairball is the least I need right now, alright? As in, my uselessness does not need to embody itself in the form of man boobs! I don't need a squeaking voice, and I don't want any of this bullshit. It's irritating to say the least that I have to put up with this from you, puberty.

When I was just a little boy, or girl if my sister had her way, I was clean shaven, my skin was soft and hair free. Now my arms are coated in a thick layer of fur, and my legs rival a bears. I don't want to shave them because that's just weird, but I'm starting to consider it as a viable option.

Puberty, are you a woman? I'm really suspicious here.

Sincerely, a pissed-off George.

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