The hair of the dog (that bit you)

The remedy, Mrs. Gofi exclaimed, is that I give it a shot.

For all our growing years, most of us know what it is about us that makes us, us. Few fortunate folks are tall and slender. A few look intelligent, which is a real tragedy when they’re not. Few look scarred, in a raggedly sexy way. Few look honest, and a few unfortunately don’t.

Of course you judge to you own peril.

I am, and there’s no other way to put it, sort of round. I am ethnic and round. Some may say quite correctly that I eat well – which I do. It is my favorite hobby.

And I have wonderful, full hair. The genes seemed to work out a better blend for me. My parents have thick and dark hair.

And they grow thick and fast.

I absolutely detest my monthly trips to the local Great Clips. It’s really not great, or local for that matter. $20 a month can feed a family of four for a month in some parts of the world. Or if only Colorado Public Radio also gave hair cuts, I’d gladly take two a month. They keep asking for contributions and they sound like they’re talking directly to me. I’ve free ridden for far too long that it’s making me feel a little guilty.

May be I give it a try, my wife has mischief in her voice. Some secret malice even.

I’ll show you what you get on a stringent budget, she’d say, but does not.

How hard can it be? I’ll youtube first, don’t worry.

She’s actually pampered, Mrs. Gofi is, I tell you. If I could just stop talking about FIRE and all it’s possibilities, she wouldn’t think we’re keeping it tight – which we really aren’t.

But I am a true believer. I walk the talk. I’m prepared to let her have her way (because that, my friend, is almost always the right way).

We’ll see some action this weekend, when the garage is warmer. Unless of course you can chip in <figure out a way to insert a paypal donation link here>.

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