The answer is of course… Razors.
<PICTURE WILL BE INSERTED HERE @ A LATER DATE FOR ARCHIVAL (& HUMOUR) PURPOSES>
So, I’ve been annoyed with my hair for the past little while. It’s been at that frustratingly bad length where it’s still too short to comb/style but if I don’t do anything with it, it stands up like a haystack and vaguely resembles Shepherd Book’s hair in one episode of Firefly. As The Neil would say, it’s crazy hair. About all I can do is wear a ball cap to press it down and hope that by the time work comes around I won’t have too ridiculously bad hat head.
I’ve been contemplating what to do with it for awhile now while at the same time hoping it would grow out faster and resolve itself. After I got off work last night, I decided that I was just going to shave it again like I had in the past. No big deal, and I’d time it right so that by the time the snow was on the ground, I’ll have some hair up top to help keep me warm.
When I got home I lounged around and relaxed some, and then around 2ish I decided I’d better start because it was getting late and I’d need to shower afterwards to wash off all the stray hair that usually appears when I do this. So I grab my brother’s clippers that he bought for exactly this purpose and go to town on my hair.
I get one stripe done, no sweat.
Two stripes, still good.
Three stripes, okay… that didn’t sound right though. I take another swipe and I get the same noise and don’t feel much, if any, hair being removed. Crap, I think to myself, The damn thing is jammed. I grab the brush and sweep it clean and take another swipe at my head. I get halfway through and it makes the same noise again and combs through my hair like some bad vibrating brush. I finally realize that the problem is the blade on Colin’s razor. It must be dull. ‘Grrr,’ I think to myself, ‘I wonder if he’s got a spare blade anywhere?’
I root around in the bathroom to no avail and finally just try a few more random swipes at my hair that produce no noticable effect.
I look at myself in the mirror and the reality of my situation sort of sets in.
It’s 2am. Half my head is shaved to a somewhat inconsistent short length and the other half is about 3 inches long and fluffy as hell. My electric razor is currently about as useful as nipples on the Batsuit and I work in 8 hours. What the fuck was I going to do.
I looked like the guy who failed clown school. It was pretty pathetic. Thankfully I was too annoyed with myself for getting in to this situation to bother taking a pic of how ridiculous I looked and that no one else was around to do so. (Why do you think I do this type of thing at 2am people?!?! There are no witnesses!)
It was going to have to come off… All of it. Sonofabitch. I grabbed my skizz0rs and went to town on what remained of my hair in an effort to remove as much of it as possible before I ginsued my head with my bladed razor. If anyone has seen The Bourne Identity with Matt Damon and Franka Potente, the scene where he cuts (read butchers) her hair is pretty much what I ended up doing on mine.
Alright… so the hair was off in clumps. Totally uneven and I had no idea how the back looked because I didn’t have a secondary mirror but it felt like there was still a full head of hair back there but I didn’t have the patience to try and trim any more. I grab the can of shaving cream, make a sundae topping on my head and start in with the razor. I get the stubbled side down to smooth skin in a couple of passes but the other side is giving me trouble. The blade keeps clogging up with the longish hair that is left after my “trimming”. I plod onwards and slowly make enough headway to feel like I can start on the back.
The back gives me no end of trouble. I can’t see it and I’m not sure if the hair I’m feeling back there is hair that I’ve shaved off and just won’t come off until I shower or if my razor is being completely useless and come morning I’m going to look like a fool and have to contemplate calling in to work sick with stupid embarrassment.
After about an hour of slicing and dicing, I figure it’s time to jump in the shower and clean off what I could and see if I could identify any problem spots and such. Needless to say… freshly raw bare skull + hot water = stinging pain. Not fun.
I manage to tolerate the pain and assess the situation. Surprisingly, I seemed to have done a pretty decent job. I do a few touch ups as needed and survey my newly minted Jean-luc Picard looks. Okay… I still look like me, but a bald me.
So I head to bed and try to get some sleep and as I crawl in to bed I remember just how cold your head gets when you’ve shaved it. It’s amazing what insulating properties a quarter inch of hair can have. Anyways… I end up not being able to sleep because whatever mild anaesthetic is used in the shaving cream to soothe/numb skin while your shaving is now wearing off and my head is as itchy as bloody hell. Of course it’s still raw from the shaving and the shower and so I totally can’t scratch it.
I finally drift off and manage to get a couple of hours sleep before work. My co-workers responses varied from one of them asking if I had cancer, another saying I looked like Dr. Wayne Dyer and that I should wear a nazi uniform (I dunno. She’s an effing space cadet at the best of times. I can only assume she was being nice, though how the fuck that can be construed as being nice leaves me somewhat at a loss. Perhaps I just invoked some weird-ass real life version of Godwin’s law or something.) And then of course there was the annoying little shite who, were murder legal and unpunishable, would be dead without a moment of remorse from me constantly calling me 8 ball and giggling in that pre-pubescent nasally whine of a voice that he posesses. (Yeah, I know 8 balls are black. I have no clue why he said that. Last time I checked, I’m not a big black man. Hell, I’m the whitest honky on the block as far as I know (whiter now with this chrome dome). I get the feeling that he doesn’t really get out much so pool ball colouration is probably just as lost on him as knowing what to do with a woman in bed).
And that was my night and following day.
So for a bonus $600 Brain?… what are we going to do tonight?
2 thoughts on “I’ll Take Things Greg should not play with at 2am for $600 Please Alex.”
Something to cheer you up:
Now that looks the way they were always meant to be filmed.
Seen that already. Looking forward to it to some degree, because yeah, it does like the way TMNT should’ve been done in the first place, but at the same time it’s going to bring back a resurgence of the old cartoony crap and I’m not going to enjoy that all that much.
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