Hhhhhmmmm I sit here at an impasse (which looks shockingly like a desk in an office, but don't be fooled! I assure you it's an impasse!), what do I want to blather on about today? hhhhmmmmm...I have things in mind...but I can't pick one...should it be the one about the peculiar insanity that is women and their constant demand for mutually-exclusive goals? nope, I need to think that one through a bit more so that it's properly scathing :)...perhaps then my much-loved harangue about the morons who 'barry-up' silly little underpowered housewives cars...nah, i'll save that till tomorrow, I get the feeling that that's going to be quite a good one and I want to try and keep the pattern of 'lengthy rants on Friday' running...maybe the one about phobias and, in particular, one of my extremely odd phobias that no-one *ever* takes seriously...hhhhmmmmm no i'm still not 100% sure that I should actually unleash that one onto an unsuspecting world (although now i've mentioned it you can hardly be called 'unsuspecting' anymore can you?...oh perhaps next week)...how about the one about sleep deprevation and the peculiar things you think about at 6am in a quiet, darkened room when you're only company is an inner-monologue that *refuses* to shut up and let you sleep (sob!), no I don't think so...i've not slept for a few nights now and if I launch into a vitriolic tirade about that today I may scare people :)...so where does this leave me?...well, like I said...at an impasse...for fuck's sake people pay attention! hehehehehe :)

Something simple then today I feel...haircuts. Now it may come as something of a shock for you all to learn that I am something of a tart (or as Kate so delicately put it in a previous post...faggotpants...hhhhmmmmm charming)...not a tart in the...um...'slaggish' sense of the world you understand (yeah you're not getting into my pants that easy love...oh wait...who am I kidding...yeah go on then ;)) but anyway i'm not! ignore what *anyone* else says as whatever it is it's a lie! I assure you that i'm as pure as the driven snow...hhhmmmm although snow that's been driven on is actually quite dirty really isn't it?...oh well. Anyway! the point I was trying to make before slanderous rumour forced my train of thought down a distinctly seedy alleyway was that by 'tart' I mean i'm ever so slightly vain...and not a slapper...everyone got that?...oh good. So yes, i'm slightly vain, only with certain things though...my ridiculous shirts being the main focus of my tartish influences...nice watches being another...and my hair being another. Now it may come as *another* shock to you (crikey this is an exhilirating post isn't it! two shocks on one day by jove!) but my hair is actually a finely crafted piece of cranial sculpture...NOT a scraggly mess that I don't even look at before going out...i'll have you know that it takes a lot of effort to force my preposterous barnet into such a dashingly cool shape (modest aren't I!) and on the distressing occasion when my locks start to get a little too lengthy to be easily cajoled into good behaviour I have to pluck up the courage aaaaaaand...visit a barber! *sob!*

And why should this be such a traumatic experience? Well as i'm sure everyone knows actually finding a barber who can translate your obscure hand gestures and coded phrases (*you* know what you're trying to get at but i'm sure they think we speak another language) into the hairstyle you actually want are few and far between. I had found one...but he appears to have disappeared now and the last couple of attempts have been narrowly averted disasters that have left me less than pleased with the somewhat wan version of my glorious coiffure (no I know I haven't got one...I just think the word's funny). So that brings us to today...haircut time...eek!...I venture in there...normal guy's still MIA...other bloke's busy...so I get a new guy...uh-oh!...this is an unknown quantity...will he do similar misdeeds to my precious bouffant (not got one of them either but just imagine me with one...I can hear the laughs from here!)...or!...*deep breath*...will he actually wreak even *worse* untold havoc on my...erm...i've run out of words for hair so i'll just say hair ok?...so in I go...some uninspiring chit-chat later I inspect the damage aaaaaaaand...wonder of wonders he's actually done a better one than the other guy!...Huzzah!

I'm a happy little chappy now...nice hair and no sleep make Chris something something (that's an oblique Simpsons reference incidentally...just so no-one worries...more than usual anyway).