I have never been a hairy person. I have grown long hair, past my shoulders at one time, but I was young and impetuous. I have worn a beard, as my avatar attests, but I was older, had gone away for a few days and left my razor at home so I just let it grow. Then again, my beard didn't really start growing until I was about 20 so it had always been an ambition to have one. It was fun while it lasted and as I was also terribly overweight, I could do a great Brian Blessed. The beard lasted 19 months. Head one, rest of body nil. OK not quite nil but I'd get a 66% discount for a sack, crack and back.
The rest of my body is taking years to catch up. There are a few new arrivals across my chest but these are only visible when I've just come out of the shower. Lower legs and arms have a light dusting of blond frondage but my back and rear end remain resolutely baby-bare and what covering there is grows stunningly slowly. Except that is, for the hair in my nostrils. For the last decade or so, every couple of weeks I've had to pluck, cut or pull several hairs of unbelievable length and thickness from each one. Otherwise they lurk, picking the most embarrassing moment conceivable to uncoil from their lair. I'll be totally unaware that they're dangling there, like great lengths of anchor chain swinging above my upper lip, until I visit the lavatory and look in the mirror. It's bad enough that for the last ten years they've been the same colour as the hair on my head. Different now though; nobody told me the bastards would go white.