Friday, January 25, 2013

It's Over For Me.

Now that I'm officially the "weird" kind of bald I can start living my life like an adult diaper filled with warm cottage cheese.

I can start wearing brown corduroys. And drinking the shitty coffee at the car dealership where I will inevitably test drive an understated, yet economical sedan.

I can listen to James Taylor, like all the other bald men, everywhere.

Maybe I'll pick up golf and read books about gunship captains that are secretly spying on clandestine Soviet militants. I'll think to myself, "I could be that gunship captain...if I wasn't bald."

I'll eat Hotpockets every day. For every meal. I might go a step further and dip said Hotpockets in a popular condiment.

With my newfound "weird" baldness, my dating prospects will be limited to women that are obsessed with gross beards (they don't exist).

I'll get a cat.

I'll get another cat.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Yah, you'll be relegated to finding a gal who's not a vacuous turd blossom, the horror! This will make it more interesting because they're in a real minority. One thing though, good gals, they don't want to hear about old flames, they don't like to be treated like shit, and don't want to be told they're stupid for not knowing the consecutive order of Jermaine Jackson's albums... One more thing, don't ask for a kiss.

"It ain't about dyin', it's about living" C Mayfield