DOCTOR MY HEAD

I’ve Reached The Not-Fun Part Of Therapy

You wanna get nuts? Let’s get nuts and heal.

by author

I told my therapist, “I’m afraid.”

“Go on,” he said therapeutically.

I went on:

“I’m afraid of losing my hair.”

With a full head of hair, I’m almost hot. I’m so close to hot I simmer. Unquestionably a 6.

I stir up lechery in 60-somethings. All day long.

Which is why I can’t lose my hair. If I lose the ability to provoke lust in others, what will be the point of going to Walmart or church or anywhere anymore?

Here’s how I’ve been defending my hair:

I’m a two-hat man.

Hat One
His name is Big Black Floppy Hat. He protects my level-6 face from sun damage, but mostly he keeps wind out of my hair, wind that might be a butthole and reveal my deep hairline, coldly showering my admirers in disenchantment.