So, if you have been reading my blog for more than five minutes, you know that I am obsessed with my hair. On the one hand, I consider myself to be incredibly attractive... ahem... on the other, I spend the majority of my time worrying (internally) about how my clothes look, if my hair looks right, if my genitals are clean, etc.
I have always been this way... and the thing is?
99% of the time?
I look like an absolute bum!
I know... I’m an enigma.
I recently got a haircut, which is always like the biggest deal in the world for me because no haircut has ever satisfied my demands. That’s why I always put off getting it done for as long as humanly possibly which, of course, results in months of sporting an unmanageable, self-trimmed rat’s nest which ultimately reinforces my status as a complete and total bum, causing further internal strife about the way I look.
This was only my second visit to the barber in the village where I currently reside which, by my calculations, means that it was my first haircut since October! He cut it the same way he cut it the first time, which is the same way my previous barber cut my hair and the same way the guy before him cut it (although I was never allowed to call HIM a “barber” - he insisted on being called a “hair stylist.”).
No matter what I say... No matter how much I try and guide them... No matter how many times I tell them that I want hair like Johnny Depp... It always. Looks. The same.
However, something curious happened after this last haircut.
After returning home Saturday evening and screaming at myself in the mirror about how bad my new haircut looks (don’t worry, its normal), I donned my favorite Yankees cap and pretended like nothing ever happened.
Later that night, realizing that I might get lucky, I decided to take a shower before climbing into bed -- you know, the whole OGD (obsessive genitalia disorder) thing and all. Of course, I washed my new hairdo (with the Jack Black “All Over Wash” I got in the city - swoon) and hopped in the sack.
The next morning, I took a good look at myself in the mirror and my hair looked... well, different. It was flat, perfectly even around my head and I had bangs! It was almost... Beiber-ish!
“You know what? That doesn’t look half bad,” The Girlfriend remarked.
“Yeah. Just push it to the side a little,” she said, moving her hands around my forehead.
“Yeah. It looks pretty good.”
You see, I typically take a gob of gel, push my hair back and let it fly. However, completely trusting The Girlfriend and recognizing that maybe a change could be fun (and also make for an awesome blog post) I decided to go with it. I don’t necessarily like the haircut - it is a bit too conservative (like in an outwardly homophobic guy who is secretly gay kind of way) and it makes my head look really, really big... So, I mentally prepared myself for a Monday morning suicide mission.
You see, when you dish the way I dish? Well, lets just say that my colleagues and co-workers will relentlessly tease me whenever they get the chance. And tease they did...
The first hour of my work day was met with giggles from most of the people who work in my building and then, when the laughter subsided, everyone started arguing over which celebrity/cartoon character I most resembled. I heard it all... from Ralph Wiggum to The Beibs himself.
Here is a snapshot of some of the characters that my
asshole incredibly supportive coworkers have decided that I now resemble:
|Random Lego Guy|
So, dear readers, it is time for you to decide!
Which one you think is a match? Maybe you have another suggestion?
Or maybe its just plain old Six -- only sexified!
|I'm too sexy for this shit!|