Friday 9 March 2007

Shorn lamb.

    You're a head case with a smile
    Can't stop to make up your mind
    Education is so lame
    When you bitch and you moan
    You're a loose girl, I'm a guy
    You're a truth freak with a lie
    The situation is so strange
    It's a tv show*

Oh wow.

My seventies guitar hero preacher is no more.

Well, he is still somewhere around here, hidden inside the handsome man who walked into the house fully cleanshaven, with hair that's about two inches long if it's a millimeter. Looking like he joined the military to the point where I actually thought to ask if he had, since he never mentioned he was going to the barbershop, I wondered what else he had kept from me, perhaps enlisting?

Instead of his shaggy curtain of bangs and flippy curls around his collar and the awesomest beard this side of Woodstock, he now has a Major Haircut with a barely-there fringe now across his forehead that sweeps to one side and a completely bare face like a baby's ass.

The good news is he's still got a ton of hair. All the men in his family keep all of their hair to the grave.

Actually now that I've had a little time to adjust, he's a very very good looking man when he's clean cut. In a totally different way than the sexy rugged hippie looks that I adore so much.

And ears. Did you know Jacob had ears? Because I didn't.

*(Mark saw my 'lamb' title and started in with his Queens of the Stone Age Leg of Lamb rendition on the phone.)