Since the beginning of the pandemic I have been cutting my own hair. It has been a terrifying process, let me tell you.
Now, I am not a stranger to cutting my own hair. In the era beginning after posing for gay porn "photographers" and before being able to quit my second gay waiter jobs I did buzz my own hair. But that was just a study in Mohawks and flattops. This was followed by the timespan the gay community knows as the Caesar and Faux hawk generation. The late 90's was a non-stop cornucopia of pointy-pointy hairdos.
In 2020's shutdown, the need to cut my hair is dictated by my skill. Or lack of skill. It means my hair gets trimmed on the sides and blended to a longer top with a side-part. I can not go too tight on the sides as my hair can go directly into a style known as the "Hitler" and its begat tiki-torch scuzzzbag bastard goblins. Side part combovers can move right into Nazi youth if not done correctly. So longer and blending has me standing naked in the bathroom mirror for a minimum of two hours. Although I do get to listen to the collective works of Kate Bush on repeat four times, I don't get to listen to a paid hairstylist ramble on about finally moving out to the West Coast.
The experience is growing on me. Literally.
Now, I am not a stranger to cutting my own hair. In the era beginning after posing for gay porn "photographers" and before being able to quit my second gay waiter jobs I did buzz my own hair. But that was just a study in Mohawks and flattops. This was followed by the timespan the gay community knows as the Caesar and Faux hawk generation. The late 90's was a non-stop cornucopia of pointy-pointy hairdos.
In 2020's shutdown, the need to cut my hair is dictated by my skill. Or lack of skill. It means my hair gets trimmed on the sides and blended to a longer top with a side-part. I can not go too tight on the sides as my hair can go directly into a style known as the "Hitler" and its begat tiki-torch scuzzzbag bastard goblins. Side part combovers can move right into Nazi youth if not done correctly. So longer and blending has me standing naked in the bathroom mirror for a minimum of two hours. Although I do get to listen to the collective works of Kate Bush on repeat four times, I don't get to listen to a paid hairstylist ramble on about finally moving out to the West Coast.
The experience is growing on me. Literally.
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