I Can Write!

Living in Boys Town meant there was never a bad haircut. Most people who live in the "colorful" area of Chicago might patronize establishments such as Melios, where a shampoo can be followed by a tattoo; but even the guy at SuperCuts knows his shit, charges only twelve bucks, and won't tattoo you unless you ask.

I did not take this into consideration when I decided to get a haircut in Florida. So complete was my lapse in judgement as I managed to not pay a single respectful ounce of attention to any of the countless mullets running rampant in that penis-shaped state. (Though, depending on your psyche, it also looks like a gun.)

Theoretically, I'll be voting there soon. That is, of course, dependent on whether or not my registration went through and if the electronic voting machines - which are a totally flawed concept even despite their radiant touch-screen luminosity, so pretty - don't crash during the onslaught of tree huggers and war mongers hustling into the polls to prove their guy's not nearly as bad as the other guy. Basically, it's a lot of people voting for either the penis or the gun.

Exhausted from even thinking about such nonsense (and my new, sad haircut), I found respite over the weekend in - ironically - our nation's capital. I stayed with a great person, saw a great movie and ate a great breakfast, all the while contemplating the merits of both penises and guns. Actually, I had settled a long time ago on the fact that the penis is substantially less harmful than the gun, but the discourse was fun anyway. I still didn't know what to do about the haircut.

Then I went to visit some really big penis fans. My brother and his husband live on a mountaintop in West Virginia, where the two of them made sure to remind me daily that hair does not grow on trees and I should be more careful with my head. "At least it's not a mullet," I'd reply as their taunting made me feel like... like I had a really small penis. And then the unthinkable happened: One of them pulled out a really big gun.

So I went outside with a really bad haircut and a really small penis and a really big gun, and I blew so many holes in things I couldn't even think anymore -- which, if you've read this far, is not such a bad thing.

If you're pickin' up what I'm puttin' down, vote next month. We don't want our dicks shot off.

Posted by kyle t. at October 23, 2004 01:47 AM

---