I was lying here thinking about how to start writing this and I stumbled onto the idea that in the male population there is a odd correlation between the amount of hair on one’s head and the amount on the rest of the body. For example you never see any bald kids, except those ones in the Saint Jude Cancer Institution commercials, oh God those are sad, and maybe that’s why you see no bald children. If someone saw a bald six year old boy they would either have to assume he has cancer or he’s being raised by Nazis. But while little boys always have hair on their head the rest of their body is silky smooth, not that I have much experience with little boy’s bodies. I’m basing my assumption on when I was a little boy, in which I had much experience with my body, especially one particular area that unfortunately would not stay smooth forever, unless I shave everyday down there which I refuse to do – I can’t stand shaving my face three times a week, so I’m certainly not going to dedicate anywhere near that much effort to my balls, especially when they’re not being used at all except the multiple times a day when I scratch them, and I’m guessing they wouldn’t itch so much if they were shaved, but another reason I won’t shave them is because there is hardly a time when I shave and don’t cut myself, that’s a risk I’m not willing to take with my baby making holders. But as males get older the rest of their bodies get more hair, and not just in their fun zone, but all over, arms, legs, chest, hell even the back for some unlucky bastards. But the news isn’t all good. I’ve been noticing a lot more receding hairlines as of late. I’d like to do a study and see if bald men tend to be more hairier than males with a full head of hair. I’m very interested in studying these men’s bodies indeed (I don’t think that came out the way you meant it to) no, I know it sounded gay (and yet you leave it in) that’s part of the joke (you mean you’ve been trying to be funny this whole time?) or I’m just gay, I haven’t decided which yet – that’s a joke of course, but it brings up an interesting point, if later I was found out to be gay would all my jokes where I joke about being gay no longer be jokes, and therefore not be funny? (You don’t have to worry about that) because I’m not gay (no, because your jokes were never funny).
As a kid I always had short hair. I wasn’t really in control of that. I think we all look back at yearbook pictures of us when we were young and we hate the haircuts our parents gave to us. But what’s the alternative? If our parents let us get the hair cuts we wanted every other boy would have a Mohawk and the rest would have words like poop and penis shaved into their heads, which isn’t a bad idea and I don’t see why more people don’t do that. As I got older I got more control over how I wanted my hair to be cut, and once in high school, partly because I hated sitting awkwardly in a chair while an Asian lady cut my hair, I wanted to get my haircut as least often as possible without letting it get too out of hand. Unlike a few select males in the population the idea of having my hair so long that if I was in a bind I could wipe my own ass with it was never appealing to me. I would just let it get to about where it would cover my ears and then I would have my mother cut it and then I would go to school embarrassed for the next week because my mother wasn’t very great at cutting hair and it was always crooked and I was always self conscious of my appearance anyway and that only made it worse, but still I thought it was better than sitting in a chair for 15 minutes while an aging Asian lady cut it while her breasts awkwardly rubbed up against me and I fought off a boner – I’m not entirely sure why I always got the old Asian ladies, but I feel had I gotten the cute young ones my life would have turned out entirely different and I’d be completely obsessed with styling my hair and I’d probably be currently walking around with the Justin Bieber or that damn English kid from the Twilight movies haircut. So in high school I got in the habit of growing out my hair, which I don’t think helped with the lady folk at all.
I think for me women equate the longer hair with creep. But when its short I’m cute and harmless – which is half correct, I won’t say which half (harmless). I’ve probably received the most compliments in my life right after cutting my hair. They’re back handed compliments like, ‘you actually look good with a haircut,’ which is a compliment, but also implies that before I looked bad, which is true. And there have been countless times when my friends have threatened to take my life if I didn’t cut my hair. Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration. But I have received multiple death threats from my friends if I ever attempt to grow a mustache again. Holy shit was that a disaster. When people saw me they turned away as if they were watching [insert some national disaster that was tragic but wasn’t too recent as to be offensive i.e. Ashlee Simpson’s botched lip syncing on SNL]. But once I shaved the mustache off everyone was celebrating to the tune of how they did at the end of Star Wars Return Of The Jedi – by the way, fuck you Scrabble and fuck you Chris, according to Microsoft word Jedi is a real word, so I want my 48 points for that God damn triple word score.
I currently have long hair. Not womanly long hair, just long for a boy. It’s summer, and as of recent it’s been hot. I usually like to have my hair cut during the summer. I planned on cutting it a few months ago during school for whatever reason. I kind of like the idea of going to school with my hair continually growing for the entire year and then cutting it a couple weeks before summer. I don’t know why I kind of like the idea of that or why I even remotely thought it interesting enough to write down that I like it, but too late now. It was weeks and weeks ago that I almost cut it again. I know what the people want. They want it cut. I’m not looking for women at all, but if I was I would do much better if my hair were shorter. I know this based on talking to women about my hair in which they all agree that I’m better when it’s short. Yet for some reason I don’t have the desire to cut it. Tonight I acted like I randomly chanced upon the reason I’ve been so unwilling to cut it, but that’s not true, I’ve known for the past few months why I haven’t wanted to cut it.
It’s a reminder of her; the only one to have ever really liked my long hair, or my mustache. I rarely look in the mirror, and when I do it rarely has to do with my hair. It usually has to do with brushing my teeth, or popping zits, or my wacky new masturbation ritual (that’s a joke folks). But when I do see my hair in the mirror I don’t like my hair, but it reminds me of her, and it reminds me of how she liked it. It’s sad in a way because I have the long hair yet I’m not with the one person who actually likes it. But it also makes me happy, in a nostalgically sad way. It reminds me of her and specifically the conversations we had about my hair. Don’t get me wrong, we didn’t go into hour long Iraq-war debate like discussions about it. But I still remember every little comment here and there she’d say about it. It puts a smile on my face. And then I notice I look like a douche because I’m looking at my hair in the mirror smiling, and the chances are since I’m in the bathroom my pants are down also.
My long hair feels like one of the last connections I have to her. I don’t want to lose it.