Simple Hair Necessities

Let us begin with a simple proof. If an item is dead, it cannot (or at the very least should not) be characterized as either healthy or vibrant. Hair is dead. Ergo, hair cannot (or at the very least should not) be described as either healthy or vibrant. Indeed, if at any point in your life the substance growing out of the top of your head takes on properties that necessitate describing it as either healthy or vibrant, I would suggest you have a problem and recommend that you consider killing it – probably with fire and preferably before it gets too belligerent.

This is what healthy, vibrant hair looks like.  As you can see, Itt is not something to aspire to unless one is creepy and/or kooky.

This is what healthy, vibrant hair looks like. As you can see, Itt is not something to aspire to unless one is creepy and/or kooky.

Likewise, if you’re thinking you can skirt these guidelines by purchasing some sort of organic toupee , I would like to point out the following: If your toupee is alive, it means you’ve probably purchased a Chia pet by mistake or, alternately, have become a habitat for some furry, scalp-dwelling, woodland mammal. In event of the former, I recommend Weed-B-Gone. In case of the latter, a high-powered rifle and your friend’s best William Tell impression.

…Whoops.

…Whoops.

But to return at length to our original argument, there is nothing that Pantene Pro V can do which a good coat of shellac could not duplicate. The ubiquitous shampoo and conditioner ads wherein they promise a Lazarus-style regeneration and/or Schwarzenegger-esque body for your skeletal insulation overlook the fact that the stuff streaming out of our skulls was never alive to begin with. To summarize, zero times any fruit-scented number is still zero. And short of using a bottle of Herbal Essences to make a pact with the dark gods, one should expect their hair to be approximately as dead and flat when they get out of the shower as it was going in.

Speaking of the shower, I’d like to take this opportunity to discuss shampoo commercials and their flagrant disrespect for the space time continuum. Nearly all shampoos are marketed the same. Two seconds into the ad, show the product. Six seconds into the ad, show naked woman applying the product. Remaining twenty seconds of the ad, switch to slow motion while the aforementioned naked woman tosses her hair about like Shrek’s Prince Charming.

Hair with body like a sumo wrestler.

Hair with body like a sumo wrestler.

Ladies, if time is slowing down while you’re in the shower, it doesn’t mean you’ve picked a good conditioner – it means you’re approaching the speed of light. As a kindness to the rest of us, please don’t abuse general relativity while in the shower – you use up all the hot water.

Now, if any are struggling with the concept that their hair is essentially beyond help, there is always the option to get rid of it. (And for those who are unwillingly going down that road, might I gently encourage you to take the plunge as opposed to embarking on a desperate attempt to save it? I trust I need not remind you that there has not yet been a comb-over created that doesn’t make the combee look utterly ridiculous.) Besides, many a celebrity is approaching sphere-bald with great effect. Men, look to Bruce Willis, Denzel Washington, or Jack Nicholson. Yes, I understand no one wants to look like Jack Nicholson, but… Alright, you know what, forget about it.  Just forget I said Jack Nicholson, okay? Bad example.

Laaaadies?

Laaaadies?

Women, I know I have a harder sell here, but every eighteen to twenty-four-year-old male will tell you Sigourney Weaver looked mighty fine in the first Alien movie. I’m just sayin’.

Ultimately, we should all have a more utilitarian approach to our hair. Is your head too cold? Then I recommend you produce a little more. Is your head too hot? Maybe go for a little less. Is your name Jack Nicholson? Maybe you should see if you can look like someone else. Granted, I doubt Jack could pull off Bruce Willis. Maybe he should try for Sigourney Weaver. It’d be a good move for him.

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I Sing the Body Snuggified

The wondrous inventions of the past century never cease to amaze.  Such innovations have put man on the moon, eradicated fatal diseases, connected cultures on opposite ends of the world, and now, thanks to the most recent brainchild of science, we can do it all while staying “snuggly warm.”  Yes, my friends, the Era of the Snuggie has dawned.  Naysayers have for eons proclaimed that it was impossible to simultaneously harvest the fields and stay warm and cozy within one’s blanky, but thankfully their negativity and bad juju was unable to tarnish the cuddly dreams of the designer of the Snuggie.

But what is this wondrous marvel of modern technology?  One part polyester elven robe, one part body bag, and multiple parts ugly, the Snuggie promises to revolutionize the blanket world (www.getsnuggie.com).  However, it seems quite sacrilegious to compare the elite Snuggie with a mere pitiful blanket, as they are as much on the same plane as peanut butter and the polio vaccine.  As the advertisement asserts, “Blankets are okay, but they can slip and slide, plus your hands are trapped inside.”  Yes, Snuggies grant you the freedom of statically-charged angelic wings, while blankets are like San Quentin.

Of course, the problem with this logic is that, if one doesn’t have the physical strength or mental wherewithal to find their way out of a blanket, in all likelihood they are also not capable of dialing a phone or stringing together a coherent sentence to order your product.  A marketing plan is typically most effective when one’s identified target audience is somehow capable of expressing an interest in and purchasing what one is advertising – someone, in short, that is not being held captive by their blanky.

To be fair, once obtained, the possibilities within the Snuggie are endless: “Work the remote, read a book, use your laptop, snuggle your baby in your arms, keep your pet close at hand,” and fight the dark forces of Mordor!  One can even “stay cozy and warm at sporting events” – and be ridiculed and ostracized by the entire community.  But seriously, guys, I’m certain the fact you drag your beloved, blaze red blanky with you…everywhere…won’t cause your poker buddies to question your masculinity or your commitment to the team.  Who dictated that you couldn’t still exhibit your team spirit and stay “snuggly warm?”  Surely your rugged individualism and complete disregard for social convention more than make up for the fact you look like a 53-year-old, balding Linus.

Sadly, in addition to sports fans, this product is also responsible for robbing the elderly of their traditionally respected status as beacons of experience and wisdom.  As a recurrent subject of the Snuggie commercial, wizened, gray-haired old men somehow lose all respectability when pictured in a rocking chair imprisoned in a fuzzy, floor-length blanky while the television blares The Lawrence Welk Show.

Due to its ability to strip everyone of their innate dignity, the Snuggie truly is for anyone doing anything.  All it lacks is a trap door built into the back to facilitate elimination functions.  It features “oversized sleeves” and is “super large, so one size fits all.”  Translation: Obese muumuu wearers unite!  No longer shall ye be limited in thy fashion selections by those “house dresses” hewn from the bolts of hideous floral patterns discarded by drapery manufacturers.  Nay, now thou shalt clad thyself in the luxurious, flowing tent…er…robe of insulating polyester, guaranteed to aid in the retention of all bodily fluids.

Yes, my friends, our world as we know it shall never be the same.  The Snuggie shall be the Great Equalizer – one size fits all and humiliates all.  Whether one is an infant learning to…roll, a fat man inhaling pork ribs, a college professor imbuing future generations with knowledge of the cosmos, or an elderly housewife knitting booties for one’s decaying toy poodle, the Snuggie shall be the common uniting factor of all humanity.  The snobbery and elitism of the fashion industry shall collapse in its wake, leaving a race of equally shapeless, tri-colored blobs and removing all sources of discrimination.  The teenage hooligan shall join hands with the crotchety old man, and the whole world, in the light of this new era, shall all sit down to “enjoy a snack while staying snuggly warm.”