Monday, February 07, 2011

Hair Today

Donovan was on Breakfast this morning. Someone should tell him that having long hair is something that young people do. He's got to be at least 65 and yet instead of having a sensible (and tidy) haircut, he looked like someone who really should know better.

Having said that, while shopping on Saturday, there was this bloke with a basket; he must have been in his 50s and had his thinning grey hair in a pony tail. I wanted to go up to him and say, "Mate, you look like a twat; honest." There's also a guy who works in the same building as me who looks like a gypsy James Robertson Justice and has a rat's tail plait down his back. I'm thinking he thinks the young people he works with will think he's a cool dude; I'm also thinking the young people he works with probably think he's a twat.

Don't get me wrong; some people seem to take to long hair, most of them tend to be women. Robert Plant doesn't look bad with long hair, but Jimmy Page should cut his off. Russell Crow looks like a pillock and whoever told Tom Hanks that long hair suited him was obviously having a bet with someone. I'm suddenly getting hard pressed to think of anyone who suits long hair and has a penis.

I used to have long hair and I think it suited me, but I had it in a time when long hair was fashionable. That said, there are some pictures of me with long hair that make me look like a complete and utter merchant banker. The 21st century isn't a time to have it and especially if you're over the age of 25.

I was always told that people who grow their hair really long go bald. That's a lie. I have a full head of hair. The truth is that if you have an obscenely hairy chest (or back) then you'll probably go bald. Richard Keys wears a toupee...

***

I got some diesel at Tesco Express this morning and was queuing to pay when a chap barges into the queue. Doing something totally unBritish, I tapped him on the shoulder and said, "Excuse me, mate, but this is the queue." He looked at me and then at the two people standing behind me but didn't move. When the till was free, he went to go to it and I stopped him again, "The queue is there," I said, pointing behind the last person in the queue. Again he didn't say anything, but courteously offered for me to go before him; almost as if he was doing me a favour. A second till became available and the guy running it had witnessed what happened, so when the queue jumper wandered down to him he told him that he needed to get in the queue at the back, not barge in. I noticed that the two people behind me made no attempt to say anything.

The queue jumper didn't move and the checkout guy told him again, but still he didn't move and carried on putting the contents of his basket out, then the punchline hit, the man could not speak English, or claimed he couldn't. The checkout guy then asks him, in a very loud voice, "Don't they have queues in Africa then mate?" I left with the two still trying to understand each other.

***

I did something I said I wouldn't do. I downloaded episodes #2 and #3 of the North American version of Being Human. I think I did it because I couldn't believe how poor it was. Then it dawned on me; apart from being an Americanised version of the great British show, it lacks the one thing that makes Being Human UK so good - humour. The impostor is humorless, badly acted and far far too earnest for its own good.

***

Apparently, I'm not as badly off as I seem to think. My appointment with the doctor (not the specialist) resulted in her telling me that I'm a long way from being able to class myself as disabled; that my spondylosis isn't as bad as I think it is and that the prolapse disc problem will eventually heal. The fact that walking long distances is very painful is immaterial, I can walk further than 100 metres, so that isn't a problem - whatever is wrong with me either isn't as bad as others or will eventually get better. I felt like asking her how she could be so confidant, especially as I have to wear my body, not her, but decided that I suppose I should class myself as lucky. She offered no suggestions regarding the nerve damage, saying the specialist will deal with that; she took me off the amitripyline because she thinks it's the thing giving me masses of blind boils and when I said that the spinal injuries doctor said the nerve damage might never heal, she said we'll just have to wait and see...

Don't get me wrong; I might sound like I'm not happy, I'm probably a mixture of deflated and slightly optimistic. I now know that the pain isn't as bad as others; the tingling sensation might eventually get better and there are others considerably worse off than me. I was told that there are no benefits I could claim because I'm not in a bad enough way; I can't have a blue badge because I'm not in a bad enough way and made to feel as though because I'm not in a bad enough way that I've wasted her time. What I'd like to know is when will I be in a bad enough way?

1 comment:

  1. Yes, I don't think Being Human would work at all if it didn't have that layer of humour running through it.

    Up until Friday just gone, I'd gone a year without a hair cut. I looked like the unholy offspring of Chuck Norris and Noel Edmonds, but for some reason I'd let it go until I was shocked into it by the sight in the mirror on Friday morning. I feel much better now.

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