Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Hello near-shaved head, my new friend

Jimoein, the transplanted Irish comedian in Australia, once had a bit about going bald. He said, 'have you noticed when you start balding, people come up to you and say 'you're going bald' - like you hadn't noticed. Then you think ... two can play at this game ... and you cut your hair short.'

My grandfather, mother's side, was a short fat tummied man who was bald at 27. Guess whose genes I got ... including the one for acute recurring abdominal pain?

Out of my brothers, I am about nearly a foot shorter. In family photos I am a dip. I once got hand-me-ups.

So in addition to weight, gut pain, and height - I also suffer baldness. In 97 I had an arse-long pony-tail. Then the spot started. Now, 13 years on, there is a small segment of frontal thinning hair, but the small bald spot did a Germany V Poland and gave me effectively a reverse mohawk.

As a fat man whose trying to be less so, I walk a lot. And I sweat. And I wear a hat. Which means when I take my hat off, my sweat causes what little hair I have left up there to spike up like cacti in a Mexican desert. It's a bad look. On occasion I have to go into the bathroom post walk and mop up said headsweat.

That's a fun experience.

My remaining hair was getting ridonculously long, so the sweaty spiking was looking more and more stupid. Like licking a finger and sticking it in an empty light bulb socket comedic straight hair fizzed out stupid.

So on the weekend, off it went. TheWife, bless her soul, got me down to a number 1.

Except ... on the way to work I realised something.

I am now the splitting image of Marlon Brando in the third act of Apocalypse Now...

2 comments:

  1. Have you ever seen a snail, crawling along the edge of a razor blade?


    Cause it's some pretty freaky shit right there. Creeped me the fuck right out. Ugh. Also, don't come up the river to get me, I really like the pork rolls these are making, and I don't have to wear any clothes.

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