My first visit to a hairdresser in a decade


A long haired man with two hairdressers. It's me. And I look bemused.

Way back in 1999, I moved to Canada for a year. Ottawa got down to -30℃ - so I grew my hair to prevent my ears snapping off in the cold. And then I kept growing it. Very occasionally I'd go to a barber for a trim, but I hated the experience. I'm not good with strangers touching me, I don't like making small talk, and I resented paying for a needless expense. So I stopped going. Fun fact - nothing bad happened. As I hit a significant birthday recently, I decided to let the "wisdom" of the c…

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The Hirsute Pursuit


I've never been good at growing facial hair. When I was at university, I tried growing a beard for a play I was in. The play was a resounding success - my beard was not. Thin, straggly, patchy, and itchy. At the aftershow party, I put the beard's fate to a vote. All the men in the cast voted to keep my rugged pursuit of manliness. All the women voted to destroy the womp-rat nestling on my face - preferably with fire. So the beard went. I drunkenly staggered to the bathroom, drunkenly…

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