Lately, more and more of you have been remarking on the length of my hair. Some of you just flat out laugh and stroke my mane, presumably for good luck, or to get a booger off your hand. Some of you will wave at me from the bar with an expression equal parts smile and facial cringe, a look I'm getting to know better by the day. And others of you dawdle up to me and feign small talk for a bit before asking me about it in as matter-of-fact a tone as your drunk ass can come up with.
So for the record: I'm letting my hair grow because I need to look like an Iranian '80s pop star for a music video I am in the process of shooting. That's right, I am sacrificing my uncommonly good looks at the altar of high art. Which is not to suggest that I don't like my long hair at times. But generally, I think it has gone about half an inch too far. No biggie: it's gonna be worth it in a couple of months when I'm a Youtube sensation.
I'm still about four shoot days away from hopping in Truck's barber chair, but on the plus side, it does give me two to three more weeks to do dumb shit like this to my hair. Blame Rose.
I don't think I'll be doing that too much though. French braids hurt.
Come to think of it, most of you probably haven't seen my music video from last summer. Sum's fair wife Nzinga directed it, and it includes a lot of people and places you doubtless are acquainted with. And yes, I rap. There aren't many things I don't do.
And finally: does anyone have access to a fabulous jacuzzi? I need one for a scene. No, we don't have set insurance. But we only need it for an hour one Saturday. Your tub will be immortalized in the annals of history forever. It will be more famous than that wooden jacuzzi Dirk Diggler was sitting in when he explained his nickname to Burt Reynolds. Mark my words. This shit is gonna be huge. Oh, and we also need a jib, and a bird or exotic animal that can be trained to sit still.
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