Here is something I like: Shaving my legs.
It’s not that I enjoy it, but it keeps people from thinking I’m a centaur.
And don’t act like you have never seen one. You know the drill – you finish shaving your legs then set the razor on the ledge with the shampoo and business and don’t you know, they just sit in their own soup and rust up and get clogged and nasty. The next day you go to shave your legs, find the thing of razor hair soup, then skip it altogether out of frustration. BAM – Now you are day closer to living as a centaur.
Damn, Gina. We did good.