The Regrowth of The 70′s Bush

Surrounded by boot cut jeans, bobs, the Black Keys, and anything remotely connected to Wes Anderson, the grave of George Santayana is surely witness to perpetual turning in our retro-obsessed age. But there is one last bastion of modernity into which nostalgia and vintage-worship will never encroach, and that, my friends, is America’s love of the bald pubic mound.

Cue evidence to the contrary…

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