Sunday, January 07, 2018

Like adding hair would help

We accidentally signed up to what appeared to be a free trial of a product but which of course was a spammer's marketing scam to get our email.

Since then there's been a lot of blocking of spam. 

One of them was "Regrow hair in X days!" which, for a second, made me think the spammers knew I was bald(ing) but then rationalised it was just a broad spray hoping to catch the fearful bald in their web of hair regrowing lies. 

I am bald(ing). It started back in '98—I sound like a grizzled Canadian prospector—when my then boss stabbed me in the back of the head with a finger and yelled "YOU'RE GOING BALD; THERE!".

I had a pony tail at the time and that spot meant game over and it was time to shave back. The balding spread as my haircut stayed the same; a 0–4 clipper back and yes please on the eyebrows, nose and neck.

There would be little point in me regrowing hair, if I was for example single and trying not to be, 'cause I am also short and fat. It would be like adding hair to a potato—there's just no fucking point.

Both grandfathers were bald but I am the only male scion who it happened to—and the only one dudded by '70s wombcare.

But with short and fat already in the back paddock there seems little point to weeding the bald; it's all fucked, just accept it.

I was ordered out of the pool before I even knew what sex was; regrowing hair isn't going to let me back in. 

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