Some of you have noticed that I need a haircut. Jaysus I need a haircut. It’s come to the stage where I have to break my self imposed hair-talk Verbot.
I’ve been needing a haircut for a long time now, the last cropping coming in July, but I’d been so discouraged by coming out of hairdressers as ridiculous-looking as when I went in, that I’d just given up. If I’m going to look ridiculous no matter what I do, then I may as well save the money and look ridiculous for free.
But now I can’t see where I’m going anymore. Nor can I even see how ridiculous I look. I can hear people sniggering as I walk by, and passersby have taken to throwing of coins at my feet. They obviously think I’m a freak!
Maybe I am. One unforeseen consequence of having my hair come over my eyes is the startling discovery that my nostrils are different shapes. In order to see anything at all when I look in the mirror I have to tilt my head back and look forward down my nose, thus revealing their shocking asymmetry. I’m like your man, Nostrildamus.
Why would anyone have nostrils of different shapes?! For different smells? One or the other would be fine – they’re both perfectly acceptable nostril shapes in their own right – but two different shaped nostrils is simply wrong. Everyone nose that.
So the time has come. Only one man can save me now, if even he can. I’m going back to the hairdresser on Friday, exactly six months to the day since I had a last cut. That’s Friday the 13th. What could possibly go wrong?


  1. Yes, you were lookin' quite shaggy the last time I saw ye. Which is to say, in need of a haircut. Badly. But you always are. I try to imagine you with a buzz cut but the brain synapses fire, misfire and lead to the same damn haystack. Even when you posted pix of your "new haircut" in the past it was just the same thamn ding. With a small dent on the sides. Take a lesson from the sheep (and Nanook) and apply the shears liberally in a vigorous circular motion hitherto unknown to the people in this area (but destined to take the place of the mudshark in your mythology).

    BTW, the sheep in this post are lookin' quite 'shaggy' in a different sort of way. Pervert. (:p


    1. Shaggin' blasphemy is all that is! As you know I come from a country where men are men and sheep are nervous.

      I take it Frank Zappa was playin' as you were postin'. The only way you can get it fixed up is to go trudgin' across the tundra...

  2. i'm looking forward to the before and after pics so that i can try to guess which one is the after one. oh well at least you will be able to see afterwards (probably).


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