It's been almost four months since my last hair cut. And it's getting to the point where gel can't even tame my wild head of Jesus Hair. 
Actually, I thank Jesus every day for my hair. Although in a sickly karmatic gesture, I lost out on "Best Hair" in our high school yearbook to the kid who simply didn't cut his for two years and decided to look like a D&D playing acid casualty who thinks that a vulva is a Swedish automobile.
But I digress.
Every so often I'll look at myself in the mirror and like Caliban finally seeing his own reflection (or Bruce Springsteen on the Streets of Philadelphia) I can't seem to recognize myself. So I'm tempted to find a barber in Auckland and just get a trim.
But there is only one person who is allowed to touch my hair, and that is my coiffure consigliare, Ernesto.
Note: photos may be altered to resemble the cast of Queer Eye.
I'm down here for another month, so I have two options. One is to risk my hair in the hands of a second rate barber, the other is to wait another 31 days and look like a Sasquatch. But looking like a yeti only lasts for four weeks. A bad hair cut can scar you for life...or at least until it grows out.
So I suppose that I'll hold out for my 2:30pm appt. with Ernesto. Maybe I'll go as Cousin Itt for Halloween. Either way, I'll be sure to put up photos.
-MGD
Max Davison is a Junior at Claremont McKenna College. When he looks back on all the crap he learned in high school, it's a wonder that he can think at all.
Actually, I thank Jesus every day for my hair. Although in a sickly karmatic gesture, I lost out on "Best Hair" in our high school yearbook to the kid who simply didn't cut his for two years and decided to look like a D&D playing acid casualty who thinks that a vulva is a Swedish automobile.
But I digress.
Every so often I'll look at myself in the mirror and like Caliban finally seeing his own reflection (or Bruce Springsteen on the Streets of Philadelphia) I can't seem to recognize myself. So I'm tempted to find a barber in Auckland and just get a trim.
But there is only one person who is allowed to touch my hair, and that is my coiffure consigliare, Ernesto.
I'm down here for another month, so I have two options. One is to risk my hair in the hands of a second rate barber, the other is to wait another 31 days and look like a Sasquatch. But looking like a yeti only lasts for four weeks. A bad hair cut can scar you for life...or at least until it grows out.
So I suppose that I'll hold out for my 2:30pm appt. with Ernesto. Maybe I'll go as Cousin Itt for Halloween. Either way, I'll be sure to put up photos.
-MGD
Max Davison is a Junior at Claremont McKenna College. When he looks back on all the crap he learned in high school, it's a wonder that he can think at all.
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