theoretically.

(part 1, part 2) Where we left off last time, I had a messy mop that was developed in equal parts by sheer laziness, my need to hide from the world, and a desire to look like a fictional Russian spy.  2005: the beginning of a descent into complete shitty ineptitude, poor health, and tremendously [...]

(part 1) At the end of part 1,  it was 2003 and I had started to become more self-conscious and discerning about the image I projected to the world.  Apparently this meant dying my hair to match my clothes. Way to go. Then one night I got drunk on a quart of butterscotch schnapps. I [...]

or: An Archival Look at Mistakes My hair has changed in fairly significant ways over the past ten years.  What remained the same was the deep feeling that my hair was talking to the world, telling them exactly what kind of idiot I was on a daily basis.  Even if I didn’t consciously express it, I understood [...]