Hey again, peeps.
Just a couple of ‘quickies’ before it’s nighty-night time. First, a bit of personal experience that you’ll probably soon wish I hadn’t decided to share:
I got a haircut today. (That’s not the icky part.)
I got a haircut today, and — in case you’re unfamiliar with the intricate ballet that is a barbershop haircut, I’ll let you in on some of the details. Near the end of a barbershop haircut, the barber (that’s the one what’s got the scissors, folks) will loosen the barbee’s (that’s the one in the chair, if you hadn’t guessed by now) paper neck guard, in order to shave the back of the barbee’s neck. This is standard procedure.
(And some would say the best part of the whole experience. I dig my barbershop, because they use some sort of hot foam that comes out of a little machine, and then shave it off with a real, live straight razor. It’s all very retro and manly — I imagine that’s the way cavemen must’ve shaved their necks, in fact.)
However, it’s also standard procedure to then readjust the neck guard, to cover the neck, should the barber decide to do any more hair trimming up top after the neck shave. It’s a whole little dance that gets done — cut the hair, then shave the neck, and then, if you’re touching up the hair, you have to reseal the neck with the little paper thingy. It’s right there in the manual, people. This isn’t the rocket science part of the haircut.
(Of course not. As we all know, the rocket science part of the haircut is two people trying to hold a polite conversation, while one is trying to hold his head perfectly still — so as not to get stabbed inadvertently in the eyeball — and the other is trying desperately not to talk with hands, in order to avoid said peeper puncturing.
And bonus rocket science points if you manage to repress a sneeze during the operation, or if your barber is Italian. Or cuts hair while he’s talking on the phone — which my old barber used to do. And that’s why I call him my old barber. He was scary enough without the multitasking, dammit.)
Anyway, the point is, today, my barber friend neglected — oh, the horror! — to replace the paper doodad sealing my severed hair from my bare neck. And then he trimmed. Trimmed, I tell you! This irresponsible behavior set in motion a nasty chain of events, at the end of which is the icky part:
Hair from my head fell on my neck.
Said hair, sitting on my neck, slid down the back of my T-shirt.
My T-shirt was tucked into my jeans.
The hair, finding no barrier from neck to ass, slid down the inside of my shirt and into my jeans.
Sitting here, right now, I thus have a considerable number of unconnected hairs pooling in my underwear. This causes me discomfort — both physical and mental, mind you — on many, many levels.
So, there you go. Hairs in my pants. I know you didn’t need to know that. And you know what? I don’t care. Because right now, I’m sitting on hair that used to be on my head. My own head hair is, as we speak, likely lodged in my ass crack. And all for the want of a properly adjusted paper thingy. ‘Tis a sad, sad tale, to be sure. And itchy. And kind of prickly, particularly on the left-cheek side.
(Wha? Too much? Oh, all right. Moving on, then.)
The other pre-bed tidbit I wanted to share is far less squinchy, you’ll be happy to know. I just wanted to mention that I’ve signed up for a little service/club/game called ‘Blog Explosion‘, and it seems pretty cool. It seems, so far, to be sort of a quid pro quo traffic generation tool, and based on the server logs for today, it seems to work in pretty much real time. Which is cool, because I can always get behind something that’s offering instant gratification, boys and girls. I’m all about that shit.
So, give it a looksee, especially if you’re looking for traffic for your own site. Oh, and if you use the link above (or this one –> Blog Explosion <--), you'll count (I think) as one of my referrees, which gets me... I dunno. Points, or something. I haven't really read the docs yet; I'm just going with the flow for now. But still -- it's worth something, so thanks in advance if you clicky-click your way through.
And that’s all for now, folks. I’m off to bed, where I’m hoping the ‘leftovers’ from my haircut will work themselves into a spot more amenable to restful sleep — like onto the sheets, or into my socks, or something. Otherwise, I’m gonna get the bathroom floor all accidentally hairy when I take a shower in the morning. And if there’s one thing I hate, it’s being accidentally hairy. Blech.
Have a great weekend, folks.Permalink | 4 Comments