Manscaping; just the word alone sounds like a metro-sexual day spa special package, rather than the harrowing self-maintenance that it actually entails. Perched with one leg up on the toilet, dude’s junk in the trunk hangs in the wind, as he hacks away with a razor at the forest that surrounds his private tower. It is all worth it though, because trimming bush country allows that dame to feel dude’s caveman tendencies without feeling like she’s shagging a Neanderthal, and it gives his tool box a sharp look that holds less funk on his junk.
