Hello! Tim's hair here!
As you can see, Tim has a nice head, and I've certainly been taking full advantage of it, growing in all directions quite happily and freely.
Tim keeps on threatening to chop me off - a positively BARBER-OUS suggestion! - but then, he's been threatening to do that for the past four months, and frankly, I don't believe him.
We've come to a comfortable arrangement: if Tim promises not to put too much shampoo in me, I give my word not to fall down in front of his eyes, especially while he is walking, as that tends to make him run into lamp-posts. (He tells me it's happened several times - seems quite cranky about it.)
Of course, it's all getting a little dull up here on Tim's head. I'm thinking of taking a holiday in Ballarat. (I wouldn't have to detach myself from Tim's scalp - if I've worked out my sums correctly, I'll be long enough in a week to walk from here to Ballarat in a comfortable stretch.)
Tim tells me to tell you that he is quite well and happy, and wishes the same for you. (And just between you and me, while Tim's not listening - he snores. It's very irritating.)
Well, I've certainly got into one or two "Hairy" situations - (HA!) - but won't bore you with the details.
Having a lovely time,
Wish you were HAIR,
Tim's Hair
(Otherwise known as 'The Epistolical Follicle')
24 comments:
I'll give you a dollar if you don't cut it for another 12 months.
I'll offer $1.25.
I can more easily promise that today than yesterday morning, when I had my hair cut.
Damn, eh?
How about shaving?
What, are you trying to turn me into a character out of 'Knocked Up', or something? Because this situation is eerily like one in that film.
That middle photo makes you look a little like Neil Finn in his hairier days, but perhaps with a bigger nose. I struggled for a long time to think what the last photo reminded me of, and I think it is "Planet of the Apes" hair, except theirs was swept back neater. No offence, I trust.
I get a hair cut about once every five weeks, so I have little tolerance for unruly hair. However, I knew of a senior air force officer in the 1980's who (I am not making this up) went to the barber at the base once a week. I suspected the barber must have done what they do with little kids sometimes: just clicked the scissors together over the hair, pretending.
Is that another one of those crap films you've seen? I'm not familiar.
No, it's an excellent film. One of the guys in the film dares another one of them to not shave for a year, and put up with all of the names that come with it ('Jesus!' 'You look like Buddha's arse!') and at the end of the year he'll get a year's rent paid.
And Steve, none taken.
No seriously, how about shaving? Though really, I can see how in winter it might be beneficial to have something keeping your face warm.
As self-elected president of the Anti-Grooming League, it's within my discretion to say that the dollar offer still stands, even if you did just get your hair cut. Nothing like a challenge, eh?
Nothing like a dollar, either, but how many challenges would I have to take up to make this challenge/dollar deal a going concern?
I tried not shaving at uni, with messy, and itchy, results.
I, too, have recently felled a few follicles in the aim of scraping together some shadow of respectability. To wit: my beard is now butter memory, hair today - gone tomorrow and all that. I haven't looked back!
What's wrong with a bit of manly stubble anyway? It separates the men from the lady-boys.
Yarrr!
It's about kudos, Tim, not filthy lucre.
Don't get a haircut, or a real job. I like it!
Nottlesby - a butter memory, but not a bitter memory, what? Nothing like a bit of stubble trouble, though.
Yairrs. Stubble Trouble Notts, they call me down at the wharves. Scourge of the Ladies! Har!
"Butter memory" goes soft in the sun, breaks your toast before it melts, and is used for storing Eastern European Recipes.
Come gather, come gather,
And I'll tell you a story,
Of union power and strength,
And working class glory;
Of a feller called Stubble,
Johnny 'Troublesome' Notts,
The Lord of the Docks,
And the fear of the Trots.
Come gather, come gather,
And I'll tell you a story,
Of union power and strength,
And working class glory.
Now 'Troublesome' Notts, he said
'Come gather round, boys,
And we'll strike, dawn to dusk,
Yarr, we'll make a noise.'
Come gather, come gather,
And I'll tell you a story,
Of union power and strength,
And working class glory.
And Notts and the lads,
In history's page,
They fought for their work,
And they fought for their wage.
Come gather, come gather,
And I'll tell you a story,
Of union power and strength,
And working class glory. (Repeat)
There's an old Spanish proverb, "A kiss without a moustache is like an egg without salt". Not particularly keen on eggs myself, so I couldn't say.
I suppose you could say having salt with one's eggs is an acquired taste. To me it seems more like an acquired distaste.
What do you think of Tom Waits' new album? It's not working for me like his grainier ballads from the early years and Alice, but I spose, like your hair, it needs to grow (but not on me! heavens, what an expression!) some more.
I have not an idea about Tom Waits new album. That little ditty to Notts was purely off the top of my own foolish brain.
Mitzy,
If it's the Waitsian ballads of which you're fond (and I share your preference), surely the second disc of the new box set is heaven on earth. "Real Gone" is rather short on ballads, to be sure, but it does have "Green grass", which is almost as lovely as "All the world is green".
And I also just have to say that I agree with you about Eddie Izzard.
That middle photo is very, ummm, arty, Tim.
Don't blame me, Darlene, that piece of fartistic genius on the wall was brought by my flatmate.
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