What the hell is up with me and body hair on Saturday's? A couple of weeks ago I went through this pain to end up with some nice smooth arms and legs, and now just yesterday I decided to put my poor body through some more misery in the name of beauty - I shaved my head.
Now, I've been clippering my hair for over six months and, usually, its no big deal. Kat gave me a great pair of clippers for my birthday last year, and with number 1 blade securely attached, I can easily keep my thinning mess of hair neatly clippered and looking smart. About 10 minutes, once a week and I'm happy.
But oh no, yesterday, after the gym (again) I decided that number 1 blade wasn't good enough anymore. It was gonna be a no blade, right to the skull special for Benji.
After a moments hesitation with the buzzing razor in hand, I just went for it and pushed the thing back over the middle of my head - hitting a previously unknown and unseen mole on the way. But I just shut my eyes and pushed on through the pain, then started another pass through my greying follicles.
I had to stop because the pain of the mole I had nicked was pretty intense. I opened my eyes to see blood slowly trickling down my forehead.
But that wasn't the worst of it. My clippers haven't been well looked after (opps) and upon surveying what the first two passes of them had done to my hair, I discovered that there must be two very blunt spots on the blades. The resulting mess left 4 lines of scalp clearly visible in between 4 raggedly trimmed tufts of greying hair.
Imagine the scene now... me standing in my bathroom, nude, blood trickling down my face, with a hair cut that a skin headed German porn star might get just before his first fisting debut.
Not a good look.
After a few minutes of intense thought (with a wad of toilet paper pressed against my head to stem the flow of blood), I had come up with a plan to salvage my head. I would simply just need to go over the spots the blades missed, making sure I used the non-blunt portion on them.
So I set to work, buzzing, and then re-buzzing my head. Again, and again, and again. But it wasn't working. No matter how hard I tried to put the sharp bit of blade against the none-clippered bit of scalp, I still ended up with tiger stripes in my hair.
After about an hour of this I gave up - I was going to have to go out and buy some new clippers to finish the job. So I jumped in the shower, washed off all the remaining hair on my shoulders, got dressed, found a cap and walked down stairs to show my housemate what I had done.
Paulie pissed himself laughing - but came to the rescue. He had an unopened set of clippers in the spare room that I could use to finish the job. JOY - i didn't have to go out in public looking like a fucking idiot (well, no more than usual).
With the new clippers plugged in, the mess on top of my head was soon tidied up and the job was complete in about 5 minutes.
And the final result? Meh. My mum says it looks like I'm coming out of a long battle with cancer. Dad thinks I look like Russel Crowe in Romper Stomper (especially with the three day growth), and old ladies won't sit next to me on the bus.
All in all... I won't be going this short again.