Archive for Supidity

You’re fuckin’ BALD, bitch!

Posted in Wankers In Denial with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 23, 2008 by Buck Frain

For fuck’s sake, if you’re bald, DEAL WITH IT! There is nothing more pathetic than a man with fake hair. Except maybe a man with a comb-over, but that’s a really tight call. Hairpieces and comb-overs are stupid. Really, really stupid and rather than making people feel better about themselves they really just serve to fuel fear and insecurity because even if you’ve got the best wig or comb-job in the world and everyone does a really good job to pretend they don’t notice it’s fake, you’ve still got to live with the terror of what would happen if they ever did notice. 

You’ve constantly got to have the hair around a rug trimmed to blend in, there’s re-colouring as you age, and the panic attacks caused be high wind, vigorous exercise or water. Do you really think that hot girl’s gonna go out with you a second time after tearing your toupee off in the throes of passion? Shit, man, you’ll be lucky if she stays to finish the job. My bet is she’ll scream loud enough your neighbours will call the cops and then she’ll leg it naked down the street, you fucking freak! Of course she may just laugh her arse off, rug in hand, you with tape on your scalp and a hard-on – that mood’s killed.

Don’t kid yourself that transplant technology is gonna save you either, cue ball. Even if the grafts take, your real hair still falls out around them so eventually you look like a recovering cancer patient and you can’t ever go back to shaving your head or you’ll reveal the big-arse scar on the back of your skull where they chopped all the graft skin out.

Any way you try to thatch that roof, insecurity is what’s unattractive. Look at the fuckwit in this ad. Hey that’s some pretty lush hair, right? If you look closely I think you’ll see he’s unable to touch it, he goes close but, ooh nah, there’s no running his hands through those thick locks. There’s something in his voice too, you can hear it, it’s like a little inner cry, a teary voice going: Nah, man, I’ve got hair now. You can’t call me baldy anymore ’cause I’ve GOT hair. Yeah! It’s REAL, man! It’s fuckin’ REAL! …is!…SHUT UP!…bastards. He’s not enjoying the confidence, six-pack or not, he’s a scared little bitch. He’s more of a baldy now than he’d be if he had the balls to cut his hair short and admit it. YOU’RE FUCKIN’ BALD, BALDY!!! BALDY, BALDY, BALD, BALD!!!