We’ve always known that Gilbert Arenas was a strange cat. A really strange cat. The dude has absolutely no filter and never feels an ounce of shame for the words that come out of his mouth. In a way, it’s admirable and shows a level high level of self confidence and comfort with himself. On the other hand, when someone will say anything about anything to anyone it can be more than anyone really wants to hear. And we’re not just referring to boring plans for his birthday plans.
When I was new in the NBA the team veterans convinced me to shave, you know, down there, because they said the hair stinks. I used my girlfriend’s razor, which was rusty and gave me keloids. The doctor prescribed medicine to dab on, but I just poured it all over. Three days later I woke up screaming. The skin was burnt off my scrotum, down to my crack, everything — just raw flesh. I still had to run and play, so I used a numbing spray for a month until it healed. Now I use clippers.
Woke up screaming three days later, huh? Why do we get the feeling your honesty is going to have the same effect on us?
Links:
[The Big Lead]: Gilbert Arenas Recants Tales of Private Skin-Loss
[WashingtonPost.com]: Gilbert’s New Favorite Drink