One Man Asylum

"My hair is a fright. I'm hairy high and low. Don't ask me why coz he don't know. It's not for lack of bread like the Grateful Dead darling" The Dickies from "Hair"

Now, I would be remiss if I didn't notice that when the nurse came in to give me my morning meds her hair was drastically different than it was yesterday. Her standard mop of dirty blond bed head was restyled in a Betty Page bob, with streaks of shocking pink. A gargantuan change to say the least. As a rule, since I do tend to notice the drastic, I would compliment her on the switch, but being that it is the nurse, I thought it best to hold my tongue. Not that I didn't think she deserved a compliment, she looked like a pin-up girl, devastatingly sexy, but I didn't think I should be the one to tell her so. I'll leave that to her victim.

People tend to think that because I have Marilyn Monroe tattooed on my arm that I am a gentlemen that prefers blonds. First of all, gentleman? Sometimes, but other times, if properly motivated I can be down right porcine. As for the blond, look, I'll admit that when it comes to fantasy girls like Pam Anderson, Jenny McCarthy, The Girls Next Door, or Scarlett Johannson blond rocks. But when I think of settling down I think of dark, long hair. It's this continuous mind tug of war between whorish fantasy and matronly conservation that has always pushed and pulled me between sanity and unbalance.

Red head. Guy, I know that we are generally the silent minority here in the Asylum, but can I get a big "Hell Yeah" for the fire maned? If there is one weakness that we men all share, aside from a kick to the canoles, it's redheads. Don't think that I'm talking about freckle faced, pig tailed, Pippy Longstockings here, no I mean voluptuous, shimmering, Laura Prepon, Donna from "That 70's Show" hotness. We all secretly and not so secretly wish that she was the girl next door that wanted nothing more than to play spin the bottle with us in our basements. It's a rarity thing. Hot blonds are about as rare as Chinese people, smoldering brunettes are as common as unfriendly Wal-Mart employees, but the crimson hottie is as elusive as the sexually active Trekkie.

Then there are the Ravens. Mostly these are exotic beauties that have straight hair framing their unfamiliar features. They intrigue the mind and ignite the loins. No, not Lions, setting them on fire is probably illegal, well if it isn't it should be, I mean, seriously, lighting the King of the Jungle aflame, bad idea. Sorry, lost my mind there for a second, where was I, oh yeah, raven. The black haired beauty is the most prolific in the world. Asians, African Americans, Hispanics, most are known for their dark locks and I can't help but love them all.

Lastly I want to spend some time today talking about the alternative. Some gals out there have taken it to task to test the boundaries of what society deems normal. They go for blue, green, purple, pink, fire engine red, and any other color in the Crayola box. Burnt Sienna aside, most of these colors are worn to shock or display ones sense of individuality. I'm not a prude, I say go for it. Go polka dot if you feel the need, doesn't matter to me. It's all good. Just don't tease it up too high and we'll be fine.

Men, it's hair, chances are you're gonna lose it anyway.

What's your feeling about facial hair? Gray, distinguished or should I "Just for Men"? What about you? How many colors have you tried? Any styles you regret?

Dixie Cup of Love: The cutter who thought I would rock with a mullet.