This Monday morning I cam to work sporting my shiny $5 haircut. I had let it grow out for a few months because, frankly, I was too lazy and busy to get one (it certainly wasn't about the money). One of my co-workers said quite honestly too me: "You look much better with the clean cut look. You're head's small, and it looked kinda funny with the long hair."
Alas, my small, narrow head has shut the door on another fashion possibility: long hair. My dream of joining an 80s hair band was crushed in one fell swoop. He was right, though, but it hurt nonetheless.
Let me tell you of another male fashion accessory that is now closed to me: mustaches. Yup, I can't grow a mustache. Observe this photo from my long hair days (prior to the mullet):
As you can see, the beard is full, but the mustache is quite lacking. I guess I'll never aspire to this man's mustachioed greatness:
That's candidate Ben Wirtschafter, running for judge in Yuba County, America's meth capital (we gotta be #1 in something). Just look at the volume, the color, and the pizzazz of that mustache! I can't grow anything that awesome. And think of what I could do with a sucker like that: meet women at the local church ice cream social, serve sarsaparilla at the local tavern, sell used cars, and shine at the local discotheque. No, I suppose I'm condemned to the life of a shaven upper lip.
I mean, Trebek looks fine without the stache, right?
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