June, 2006: Parenthood and work were taking their toll. People moaned that my column was getting late. I vowed to arbitrarily murder the next person who knocked on my door. That made me feel better. And my brief encounter with the world of Korean hairstylists also did me the world of good.
I received more than my usual share of hate mail this week, which pleases me to no end. It proves that at least three of you are paying attention.
What seems to have drawn the ire of some of the more hydrophobic fans (look it up) is that I did not submit an episode of this column last week, thus disappointing my insatiable army of Fanatical Floggers. I promise you that as soon as I make up an excuse for this indiscretion, I will post it here.
Apparently, thousands of you set your clocks by the regular Thursday dose of merriment this column provides. No doubt you are often late for work as a result of this, and I suggest you buy a better clock, you cheap bastards.
Anyway, all of this pissing and moaning has really galvanized me into action. I hereby promise that I will do my utmost to provide you with your weekly spoonful of madness, and I can already guarantee that I will break that promise if next week is anything remotely like this week.
That is why, gentle readers, I must present a little spot for your consumption that I like to call…
It All Began With A Haircut
It all began when I needed a haircut.
Now most people, when they need a haircut, go to the hairdressers. After much careful consideration I decided last Friday that I, too, would follow this drastic course of action. Let it not be said that I am unwilling to learn my lesson after the “lawnmower” incident. The first thing you should know is that the Flowbee is both a waste of money and a complete crock of shit. The second thing you should know is that early Native Americans could have saved themselves a lot of time and effort if they had learned to scalp people as effectively as I did to myself with some hair clippers from Wal-Mart and a packet of ordinary household bleach.
No, it was time for professionals to enter the fray. And so while Torak and Nigh Perfect were visiting Grandma and Grandpa Perfect, I paid a visit to my local hairdresser.
At least, that was the plan.
[Immediate derailment of said plan...]