I said doo...

Yes... I will be chopping off the coif on Tuesday. Well, technically I will not be doing the chopping. Although, I was seriously considering it when Scott (the receptionist) informed me that I couldn't get in this month. So I cried a little... big fuckin' deal, man... it got me in on Tuesday, didn't it? Who's the asshole now, huh? I'll post the photo's then but I'm guessing it will be dramatic. I'm going through a "thing"... and it appears as if it can all be traced back to my hair. My fucking long, blond locks. Now, the part that frightens me is that I cannot make up my mind what to do with it... it will depend on my mood at the time and that's just enormously scary. You feel me, dawg? It could be dark... it will be short... it may be warm (or cool) tones... red, platinum, black? I don't frigging know, man. Any suggestions are welcome. Well, I gotta go imbibe. Word to yo motha y'all.