A Day in the Life of Chaos

I am one of those unfortunate souls who do to some genetic quirk in life was born with hair in all the wrong places.  Whenever I feel down about it I thank my lucky stars I am not a woman. The reasons for that gratefulness will become abundantly clear as you work your way through this missive. For some reason the legacy of my maternal grandfather decided that I should have little hair on my head and all of it on my body.  Like a puzzle from the past our genetic code decides our fate like the emperor of Rome presiding over gladiatorial combat. It can bring disease and it can provide long life.  It dictates the color of our eyes and if our appearance we will be beautiful or simply like that of a toad.  In Asia people are largely hairless and my abundance of it becomes a rather quaint oddity.  I am not quite sure how they view me.  Half simian perhaps?  I like to think they find it uniquely sexy.  At any rate women touch it as if it is a delicate foreign object of great curiosity. 

Life dealt me a cruel twist of fate. I hardly knew my grandfather. Probably it was for the best. He was a southern racist of the likes I am not proud. He lived his life out in Shreveport, Louisiana surrounded by the right wing refusing to admit they lost the war. When he died my mother received her share of gold Krugerrands he had sheltered in a safe deposit box. Why gold Krugerrands? Because they were from South Africa and he liked how the white government there kept the black people in their place. I am sure there were many good things about my grandfather but his racism was certainly not among them. Well, while my mother got the gold coins it was certainly not a kings ransom. She was however, quite happy to cash them in and spend them on something long forgotten. My grandfather's inheritance for me came before his death and it was quite different. I inherited my grandfathers genes. He was a brilliant geologist yet sadly, his scientific intellect did not pass m