Ode to Earhairs

After a weekend spent plucking and prodding and picking people to pay the bills- I realized that I have a serious addiction to the grosser things ON life. I truly relish finding and plucking that stray earhair blowing gracefully in the winter breeze.  It has gone too long unnoticed under that hat, masquerading as part of your flowing locks. Growing for MONTHS to reach such lengths transforming into a curly, one might even say coarse fiber, diverting precious nourishment from your other follicles. Sadly, It- no, you know something of this magnitude deserves a name, shall we say Clancy, heretofore we will refer to your earhair as Clancy. Clancy has reached the end of his "short" life, but this won't be a simple pluck and run.  I tenderly grasp Clancy with my trusted tweezers, then tug gently, exclaiming in false awe "Oh, it's attached!" - YEAH he is and he's amazing, an incredible achievement, the diameter of this bristle gently rolling between the tines of my tweezers.  You exclaim with embarrassment- "Get it!" and of couse I will, because I love Clancy! I grasp this conifer in preparation of true extraction. Breathing deeply and with one smooth motion and a sigh of gratitude I unroot this truly magnificent specimen.  As Clancy remains in the strangle hold of my tweezers, I absorb all his glimmering glory, he is a testament that Darwin wasn't far off; that Man and Monkey share an ear-ily similar genetic make-up.  

RIP Clancy, you might not be missed, but I think I saw your cousin on my neighbour's ear...