Gone native

Two weeks ago, I went to a barber. It was the first time I'd had my haircut managed professionally in at least 3 years. They gave me free beer while I waited. It was an effective ploy. I didn't notice the 1" wide, white stripe the circled my head and neck until I got home and my wife said "what did they do you your head?!"

I gave her the double six-gun gesture and said "free beer, baby!" And then waddled off to the garage.
 
I've been coaching baseball and riding my bike at the beach without sunscreen for a couple weeks, so now it's a stubble covered red stripe. But I try to keep to the garage as much as possible irrespective of my hair style, or lack thereof.
 
There is in fact a fridge out there! Along with my profoundly neglected LS2/'68 Camaro project and about 20 Bmx and moutain bike, which were the primary benefactor of my obsessive/impulsive proclivities once I "retired from the sea".

On a positive note, I tore the waist band off a pair of underpants yesterday. While I was wearing them, at work... I know what you all are saying right now... "Dude! Who the f*ck wears underpants?! What are you, seven years old?!" But if you'll harken back to something I said many years ago, you'll recall that I had the shocking realization... Once you're over 40, no matter how good a job you do, your ass just won't STAY wiped all day...

So with all jackass suit wearing that comes with my new job, so comes the curse of wearing underpants, to protect the investment.

However, all my underpants are like 15 years old and Vatican approved (they're holey, man!). And when I went to pull them up after nice post lunch dump, I tore the waistband straight off of them!

Keep it classy boys!
 
When I worked for Mitsu-Chrysler we use to say going to the bathroom for a "Safety Check" and "If it itches, it's dirty"
 
Well, it's been 3 months since my last haircut. I suppose I've gone native. No ****s are given at this point. Free beer only gets you so far. At this point, I'm fairly sure it was a ploy to dull my senses enough that I didn't realize I was having my hair cut by interns from barber college. I've never needed any help looking like an idiot, so I'm certainly not going to pay someone to assist in that regard.

And yes, in case you're wondering, the email reminder that I haven't been on SOS in a while was effective.
 
I'm headed to a vintage BMX swap meet this morning. I imagine that it's like going for coffee in Key West as far as who you'd meet when you go. But I'm hoping the taco stand is running when I get there. Nothing like Coors light and carnitas for breakfast. And yes, normally I drink Miller Lite, but I'm a slave to alliteration.
 
Things were different back then...you could ride into town...and no one would ask what your Horses name was.... Nowadays I'm like fug you...Are trying to steal my Horses ID???
 
If I am ever riding through the desert, the first phucking thing on the list is to name the damn horse.
No, the first thing is to look and see what sex it is.
 
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