I'm damned near bald. *
Sure, hair like that of a TV Evangelist, country music star, or werewolf might be preferred, but it wasn't to be. I simply get my survivors of male pattern baldness buzzed off every few days. No problem. Like my daughter said in kindergarten when told she was printing her "e"s wrong, " If you don't like it, you don't have to look at it."
I might add, that not having to deal with a troublesome coiffure has shortened my morning regimen by 5 minutes or more.
So much for my head. I bristle at ads by Bosley, Hair Club for Men (First rule of Hair Club - There is no Hair Club), and other hair-restoring systems. The before picture has the follicle-challenged dude with a dour look on his face, unshaven, and looking a bit hung over and horny. The after picture shows presumably the same stud with a shit-eating grin on his face after his trip to a health spa and a weekend of hot sex. There also appears to be a dead badger sitting on his pate. This is no sweet deal for those who desire false hair. The remedy can cost thousands. Not to be crass... OK I am crass. But prostitutes don't charge extra for bald guys and if getting "dates" is the purpose of buying hair, then you can buy plenty dates for that price.
I submit Indiana Speaker of the House, Patrick Bauer
I can't take this guy seriously. Lose the hairpiece and I might.
* Cate style