It's getting hair in hurrr

I juist finished playing my bimonthly game of "Trim That Mullet!" and managed to sever my thumb completely with a dull set of shears. Hooray, now nothing separates me from lower life forms! No prehensile digits, anyway.

That's a lie. Astute readers and Encyclopedia Browns will deduce that the presence of spaces in this blog entry means that I continue to have workable thumbs. But if I am not handicapped by thumblessness, I am at least set back a ways by my new mulletless auto-do, which makes me look like what my favorite femme J. Stern would so appropriately call a "medieval page boy." So I'm primitive in many ways, and after the haircut I decided to really get in touch with my earth mother by finally stripping off the Super Mario Bros. t-shirt that has kept me just shy of indecent exposure for the last four days and stepping into the shower for the first time since...last Tuesday? It's been a while, folks, seriously. My hair was getting to that Soul Glow stage, where it looked like a lacquered arm of a chinoiserie chair and felt like a deep fryer. Even loving, non-judgmental Laura suggested that I "lose the hair cap." But alas, the water pressure's been down since March, when phase 700 of the interminable construction project at Frederick Douglass Circle apparently choked the pipes with cholesterol, or something, and *really* down since November, when the rats flooded underground for the winter and clogged the flow of freshwater with their millions of knotted tails, or something--point being, nothing less than a weak old man's urine stream was coming forth from the showerhead, so I had to take the three-gallon cooking pot and a plastic cup, fill it with water, squat over it, and take a good, old-fashioned bucket shower. It was AWESOME and SATISFYING just like a kick in the crotch is AWESOME and SATISFYING.

Right, so the state of being: mullet-free, not studying for crim, contracts, OR civ pro, nicked on the thumb, sore in the knees, back to wearing the same fetid Super Mario Bros. t-shirt that I've been wearing all weekend. I'll just say here what I often find myself saying at discos and bars all over the city: No need to push, ladies, one at a time! There's enough Man for everyone!