When you're the squirrel, you never really

When you're the squirrel, you never really wonder. You just dance along the telephone wires and bury a few acorns. This, he realized, was different. There

must be a reason that he had met the toad under the mushroom house, where the moths gathered after sundown to spread their seeds and the ants carried the day's winnings back to the

really really really big

way of being really really really tiny

and inconspicuous. I whipped out my sure-clip nail clipper with magnifying glass and clipped it off. Despite it's small size, this action caused considerable pain

to the 3-inch tall fae woman tucked into my shirt pocket, as she was psychically linked by mistake to my hair and nails but not my living flesh. This caused me confusion, but I

didn't want to interrupt her telepathic conversation with the tuft of curly hair on my chest. I started to think she was being a little rude--she was clearly laughing at my expense

but I paid the outrageous tailor bill anyway. Enough about me. What do YOU think about my one curly chest hair?

Dear Abby, He had taken a t-shirt and cut out the center to show off his one hair. He framed it with LEDs. Should I leave him? Confused. Dear Confused, "You're still there? RUN"