That time I almost went all the way

Yesterday was my six-year blogging anniversary, frequently referred to as a bloggiversary. I've never understood why my bloggiversary is so popular in certain regions of Mexico, but it is. No doubt they were partying last night in Puebla like it was 1862.

I got home from the beach Sunday evening, but it feels like my brain is still on vacation. Until it returns, I figured I would regale you with the tale of what went down (that means what happened) with the great head-shaving experiment of 2009.

I was chatting online with the female portion of Kywana on "the day." By the way, do you realize that instant messaging, text messaging, and email now compose approximately 70% of all my communication? The rest of the breakdown is: phone (25%), face-to-face (4%), all other communications, including telepathy (1%).

Anyway, after discussing the topic for awhile, she posed this question: "So are you going to shave it yourself?"

That prompted the following response from me: "Well, that's the other thing. Would you wanna shave me?"

It's safe to say that is the first time in my life I have ever uttered those words to a girl. (Or anyone, for that matter.) But as luck would have it, she agreed. Turns out that while 'Wana is not a professional cosmetologist, she does have previous head-shaving experience. Also, her sister attended cosmetology school, so that has to count for something, right?

Wheels were in motion. I was about to put my head in her hands. The only thing that could stop it at that point was me totally freaking out, which let's be honest, was still a decent possibility.

I showed up armed with every set of clippers I owned--which amounted to three--my trusty Mach 3 razor, and shaving cream. On the drive over, I had a lot of time to think about things. Things like hair, life, Andre Agassi, and what the heck was I doing. I had decided I'd get her to shave it with the #1 guard, which is the shortest, see how I liked that, and then decide if I wanted to go all the way.

After giving me one last chance to back out, she began. There was a brief moment of panic at one point as the clippers died when she was only about halfway done. Apparently, when the instructions say to charge them for at least ten hours before the initial use, you can't just arbitrarily substitute 45 minutes for ten hours.

The shaving process itself wasn't too bad. There was no mirror nearby so the only clue I had about how things were progressing was the looks on the faces of Kywana Jr. and the male portion of Kywana. I would describe them as looks of sympathetic bewilderment. I remember the words "don't look down" being uttered at some point, no doubt as to keep me from freaking out at the sight of my manly locks showering the floor.

As suddenly as it began, it was over.

Then came the hardest part for me--going into the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror. I covered my eyes, separating my fingers slowly to reveal what the clippers hath wrought. And you know what?

It was HORRIBLE!!!!! Noooooooooooooo!! Why?!?!?! Why did I do this?!?!?!

I'm kidding. It wasn't that bad at all. The only question now was whether to stop there or go all the way. I took a pic and sent it to my inner circle. Reaction was swift and decisive. My sister replied, "Oh, you really do look like Steve-O. Yeah, I think you should stop there." My Mom proclaimed, "Well, you'll never get married now. I still had a little hope before." Clearly, everyone was in agreement: it was a complete success.

So now, for the first time in the history of the internet, I am able to present for your enjoyment a freshly shorn (and somewhat tanned) Bone:



OK, so it's not the full Dalhausser. I didn't go all the way. In the head-shaving arena, this is known as third base. And I'm thinking I might stay here awhile.

"Way down south of the border. Way down Mexico way. They're having a big celebration. It's on the fifth of May..."

The twin I'd almost forgotten

I had almost forgotten about it. It had been so long. It was part of my past, much like tapered leg jeans, crying at the end of Mister Holland's Opus, or being a productive employee. It was who I was, not who I am. Or so I thought. Until Saturday, when I was reminded all over again.

I was at the first Bama home game of the season, waiting near the will call window a couple of hours before kickoff for my tickets. Normally, the tickets arrive a couple of weeks before the season starts, but due to some snafu this year they didn't. We get our tickets from Ben, who orders eight in all. My sister and I buy one pair, and this year he sold the other three pair on the internet.

So while Ben was in line at will call, I was talking to one of the other guys who bought tickets from him. We'll call him Earl. Earl and I had been chatting for five minutes or so when he paused and gave me a look. I wasn't sure what was going on and was wondering if maybe I had a rabid nose hair or something. Then, he said it.

"I hope you don't take this the wrong way. I mean, I don't want to offend you or anything but... has anybody ever told you you look exactly like Steve-O? You know from that show Jackass?"

Only everyone.

And by the way, how necessary is it to clarify which Steve-O you're talking about. What, am I gonna get him confused with the famed 18th Century composer Steve-O or Supreme Court Justice Steve-O?

Anyway, we talked about that for a few minutes. Once I had assured him that it didn't bother me to be compared to Steve-O, he brought his wife over so that she could see me. Maybe I should start charging. Just when I was starting to feel like the guy who met Andy Griffith, Ben walked over with the tickets and we dispersed.

Once inside the stadium, I stopped off to grab a hot dog and coke. Gulp! Cokes had gone up to $6 and hot dogs were $4. Last year, both were $3.25. It's a good thing I didn't break that ten the other day at Sonic.

Our seats are in the same spot as usual this year, with some familiar faces around as well as some new ones. I thought I would introduce you to a few in case I decide to write about them later in the season.

Let's begin with our returning characters from last season. First, we have Audrina and Lo. Now, I like Audrina, but I'm not crazy about Justin for her. That being said, he's still so much cooler than Heidi's boyfriend, Spencer. I mean, is it just me? Does anybody like Spencer? Talk to me, people.

Oh, sorry. I guess I got sidetracked. I'm good now.

Sitting about three places to my right is DUI. You might recall him from past seasons. DUI is the guy who mixes his Jack and Coke in the stands, makes a minimum of six restroom trips per game, and basically smells like he's wearing 80 proof cologne. Except Saturday, DUI brought a girl with him for the first time. He only got up twice to go to the restroom and never did I catch the scent of alcohol. If this keeps up, I might even have to change his nickname.

Back for another long season in their joyless existence are the two ornery old couples two rows in front of us. They never stand. They never cheer. The men complain the whole game. And if these early leavers haven't already left by the end of the 3rd quarter, it's probably a good idea to hit them in the head with a program to see if they're still alive.

Behind me and to the right is a guy I refer to as Ultimatum. He'll say things such as, "If we don't score on this drive, I'm leaving." Then after we don't score, he'll say, "OK, if we don't score on the next drive, I'm really leaving." Still, I like Ultimatum. He's emotionally invested and takes the losses really hard, like me. He never brings a woman with him, which leads me to wonder if maybe he used one too many ultimatums in his life.

New for 2008, we have a guy who I have dubbed Carlin. This pottymouth sits directly behind me, and appeared to be doing a perpetual tribute to George Carlin's seven dirty words the entire game, with heavy emphasis on the F word. He displayed a firm grasp of the F word and the ability to use it as at least six different parts of speech. However, his grasp of the remainder of the English language is questionable at best.

In front of me and to the left, and also new this year, is a girl I have affectionately tabbed OMG. She appears to have little to no interest in football. Instead, OMG is constantly texting and checking her phone throughout the game for new messages, mobile Hills updates, and who knows what else. JK, OMG. XOXO

In front of me and to the right is a guy I call Vandy. This Eddie Enthusiasm is a hardcore-fan-wanna-be. Many of you probably know the type. A pseudo-expert who wears the team colors, cheers, groans, and tries to make insightful comments during the game, but fails miserably. He always seems to be a few weeks/months behind on his team news, and certain information seems to have alluded him. Little obscure facts like: Last year's starting wide receiver was a senior. Therefore, he's no longer playing. So quit yelling his name.

Saturday night, he was looking at the scoreboard as they flashed scores of other games and saying things like, "Ooo, Michigan barely won" and "Arkansas is losing to Monroe" and then excitedly, "Vandy beat South Carolina!" Um yeah. We know. That game was Thursday night. And that's how Vandy got his name.

Most everyone was already in their seats getting ready for pregame festivities when Earl made his way down the aisle. Upon seeing me, he flashed an abnormally big smile, stuck out his hand to shake mine, and yelled, "Steve-O!!!!"

Then later, during a break in the action, Earl leaned up and said, "Hey man, I gotta get a picture of you after the game. Nobody will believe this!" Fortunately, he'll be sitting next to us all season.

Maybe it's true what they say, that everyone has a twin. I know I do. One thong-clad semi-celebrity to which I will forever be linked. Though only one of us is banned from ever performing again in Terrebonne Parrish, Louisiana.

"Well, there's a football in the air across a leaf blown field. Yeah, and there's your first car on the road, and the girl you'd steal..."

I look like Steve-O!!

Well, J's Mom nailed it. I've been told I favor several different celebrities over the years... Danny Glover, Willem Dafoe, Jim Carrey, Jay Barker, but this one takes the cake. While they were watching TV the other night, she told J that I look like Steve-O. Well, I had never seen this guy. He is on the show "Wild Boys" on MTV. So last night we watched it, and I was freaking out! I was like, "Turn it! I can't watch this."


This is kinda freaky. 

I look like Steve-O, Jerry! I look like Steve-O! Maybe it's just me. Maybe not as much now, but this is exactly how I looked about four or five years ago. For those of you who know me, I would be really interested in hearing your opinions on this matter. I'll try and post a similar pic of me if I can find one.

"Maybe head up north, to Knoxville, Tennessee. I know my baby sister has got a couch where I can sleep..."