Quit Yer Bitchin' ... It'll Grow Back.

Well, as the Indians are mathematically eliminated from post-season play, I guess it’s time for my semi-annual haircut. But what cut to choose? The ‘fro? The fauxhawk? Maybe a big ole pompadour. I have an inkling that the mullet will be making a comeback, and lord knows I don’t want to be caught sleeping when THAT trend comes a-stormin' back through town. Gotta keep ahead of the game, you know. On the other hand, I haven’t had a good high’n’tight since about 3rd grade*.

This brings to mind a conversation I had during a haircut when I was in Salt Lake City:

Haircut Girl: How would like it cut today?

Me: Oh, just kind of shorter … top of the ears, short up top ..

Haircut Girl: How ‘bout a number 4 on the side?

Me: Well, that’s very generous, but I’m married.

Haircut Girl: You’re an idiot.

I think that, all in all, the most important thing about getting a new ‘do is that the place is next door to the bar. No matter what happens, I’ll come out okay.



* That's a style of haircut, you sick bastards.