Hair, hair everywhere
Some have little some have lots
Blue hair, Pink Hair, Polka dots
But there is going to be hell toupee….
Entailed within the following post is the history of a hair-do I like to call The Helmet, a hair-do which grows so rapidly if left unchecked could threaten civilisation as we know it. Yes dear, adoring, blogging public I speak of the messy mop which currently adorns my cranium.
Naturally gifted, the hair started its life head and shoulders above its other appendage rivals, high and mighty it lorded over all it surveyed. And became twisted in the power it beheld, it grew and grew. Bringing with it ridicule for it's wearer, affectionately known as Stack-hat through his high school years, then later known as Grug, named for the hairy little echidna that he was. *
Unlike most hair, the do was not content to grow in length, "any hair could do that" thought the hair, so it made a solemn pledge to never grow to a useful length, but too always become thick and unmanageable to even the strongest of gels and sprays, to boldly grow where no hair has grown before, to never have a consistent colour bleaching in non specific patches giving a genetically altered mouse look. A style years ahead of its time.
Not Britney Spears------>
"The Hair must be stopped, no matter the cost. We will shave them on the seas and oceans, we shall shave with growing confidence and growing strength in the hair, we shall never surrender no matter what the cost may be." – Wilkinson Swordshill. ***
The offensive lasted all day, the floors covered with hair, the enemy decimated, and receding to the safety of its home land… It had tried many times to escape unnoticed, hiding under, blue, red and Green camouflage, every time it was detected and kept in line with the scissors of peace. It lay, plotting and scheming and awaiting for the chance to rise again.
Today is that day ladies and gentlemen; the hair we have feared is back, thicker and darker than ever. Spreading keratin fuelled mayhem across the blogosphere. But what to do abut it, the old alliances have fallen into disrepair, the telephone sanitisers don’t speak to the hair dressers, (mostly from fear of dirty phones), and no one likes middle men.
I guess this is my way of saying (quite long windedly) that I need a hair cut or a change… Any Ideas?
*side note Dad still to this day calls me Grug.**
** I had a friend with the nick name frosty, due to the snowy peaks of dandruff that occurred on his head, dad still calls him frosty to this day.
*** side note 2: most of Winston Churchill's speeches were written by A A Milne, as in the Author of Winnie the Pooh. "We will fight them on the seas and oceans, Eeyore and Tigger will bring cake for Christopher Robin"
This is Grug, for all those who dont know.