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JamesBowie
Member
since 2000-11-25
Posts 252
big old Bangor Maine up by the shack

0 posted 2002-05-09 10:22 AM



Bad Hair Mojo

Like a batch of nervous snakes that were suddenly cast in plaster, I awake with my hair arranged in such a manner that made me think apes crept into my room during the night and had their way with my head. I don't really understand the chemical reaction that occurs between one's head and the obviously sticky residue producing pillowcases that continue to plague me. I mean it does bother me to wake up like this now, but as a kid I seemed to know no better. My mom, you see was a sadist and would make us take showers at night, thus exacerbating the amount of mess that can be made out of your hair. Water seems to act as a catalyst for the bonding of the gelatinous crud lurking in my pillows. Wether or not there is any difference. I think my mom had an agreement with bad hair hobgoblins that would pay here in pounds of cheese per bad hair do that they were allowed to perform upon her children. You think not? Then why did we always have fresh cheese in the house when I was growing up. And now I still get bad hair but no cheese in my fridge, yet at their house there is always the cheese just sitting there like it was new this morning. And never, no mater how much water I put on my comb, never could I get it too straighten out. Cow lick, HA. It was like a herd of long horned Texas steers grazed on my head and then upon adequate rumination, cast my hair back upon my head and then quietly tip-toed of into the night. I have found the hoof prints my friend. I was sent as a child to school with these horrible hair blues. I think my mother received a bonus if the bad sticky hair kept it's form until all my friends and teachers were able to see it. And I know those teachers understood the benefits my mother was deriving from the hair contracts- so they said nothing.
But this morning I have a plan, so brilliant that a can scarcely keep from peeing due to my excitement. A knife blade, big and large, a Bowie knife, hangs in my closet. I shall remove this blade from it's box. I shall lather my hair with barbasol. And I will scrape the vile bad hair from my head, evincing the long awaited tears I have wanted to see from the bad hair hobgoblins. Jobless, do you hear me, JOBLESS. With clean smooth movements, I shave my hair inch by inch. Savoring the sound of the grating blade and the wisp of falling hair. Glorious my friend, just glorious. And as I toweled my head, removing the last of the shaving cream, I suddenly stopped and gazed at what I saw in the mirror before me. And then I screamed


"dam you, dam you and you stinking wrinkle gnomes. I shall never be free.
oh good lord in heaven help me, I shall never be free"

© Copyright 2002 James Bowie - All Rights Reserved
Kethry
Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-29
Posts 9082
Victoria Australia
1 posted 2002-05-09 05:37 PM


lol,
this is sooo funny, you sound like Jimowen who retaliated when his hair started to leave by shaving it all off.
Funderful write.
Kethry

Here in the midst of my lonely abyss, a single joy I find...your presence in my mind.  Unknown



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