We never chat anymore, do we?
Let me tell ya 'bout my hair...
When I was a wee lad, I totally rocked the 70s. Which is to say, I looked kinda like the psycho killer from "No Country For Old Men", as a matter of fact, a lot of kids my age did. Oh yeah, I wore bell-bottoms, too. They were hand-me-downs from my cousin - a girl ...! And to tell ya the truth, I miss that look. Things went terribly awry after that.
During adolescence, my hair went through a "Muammar Gaddafi" phase. I was powerless to avert it.This was Nature's Way of fucking with me. It was a dark time. It was a confusing time. I still got laid (which is sort of the confusing part - I mean I looked like a dictator for chissakes). Nonetheless, depression set in (oddly enough - I still got laid).
In my twenties, I aped the "Slash" look. Yes! It was long and curly. High maintenance. Kinda... itchy.
I thought I looked good. I felt good (I was really high most of teh time). But ya see, I'm a short dude.
So, really, I was making a mockery of a dude who was already a bit of a joke. Does that make sense? I could blame it on the dope... but I think I just wanted to be accepted.
In my thirties, I was a "professional". Actually, I dressed like a gangsta and I did a lot of gangsta shit. But I adopted a clean cut look. This was my "Christian Scientist Jekyll and Hyde" phase. I fooled a lot of people, I fooled myself; I had some difficulty fooling the cops. Everything changed when I got cancer. Life didn't get more "real" - it got weirder... I got weirder.
My forties are shaping up like some kind of Home Ec 101cooking catastrophe. My hair... I don't know what the fuck's going on. I'm in a "Kim Jong-il" hair-phase now. People on the street casually ask me how I am, I say "I'm feelin' kind of Kim, today" and they nod knowingly. Deep down, there's a little bit of Kim in all of us. Sometimes we're wrong and we act like we're right.
Let me tell ya 'bout my hair...
When I was a wee lad, I totally rocked the 70s. Which is to say, I looked kinda like the psycho killer from "No Country For Old Men", as a matter of fact, a lot of kids my age did. Oh yeah, I wore bell-bottoms, too. They were hand-me-downs from my cousin - a girl ...! And to tell ya the truth, I miss that look. Things went terribly awry after that.
During adolescence, my hair went through a "Muammar Gaddafi" phase. I was powerless to avert it.This was Nature's Way of fucking with me. It was a dark time. It was a confusing time. I still got laid (which is sort of the confusing part - I mean I looked like a dictator for chissakes). Nonetheless, depression set in (oddly enough - I still got laid).
In my twenties, I aped the "Slash" look. Yes! It was long and curly. High maintenance. Kinda... itchy.
I thought I looked good. I felt good (I was really high most of teh time). But ya see, I'm a short dude.
So, really, I was making a mockery of a dude who was already a bit of a joke. Does that make sense? I could blame it on the dope... but I think I just wanted to be accepted.
In my thirties, I was a "professional". Actually, I dressed like a gangsta and I did a lot of gangsta shit. But I adopted a clean cut look. This was my "Christian Scientist Jekyll and Hyde" phase. I fooled a lot of people, I fooled myself; I had some difficulty fooling the cops. Everything changed when I got cancer. Life didn't get more "real" - it got weirder... I got weirder.
My forties are shaping up like some kind of Home Ec 101cooking catastrophe. My hair... I don't know what the fuck's going on. I'm in a "Kim Jong-il" hair-phase now. People on the street casually ask me how I am, I say "I'm feelin' kind of Kim, today" and they nod knowingly. Deep down, there's a little bit of Kim in all of us. Sometimes we're wrong and we act like we're right.