Adventures With Hair

[WARNING: The photos attached to this story contain from-the-waist-up nudity. If you are offended by such things, perhaps you should just go away.]

I was tired of having hair. Driving with the windows rolled down was out of the question and forget about running my fingers through it. Both scenarios would result in a disgusting afro mess. Either I started using product to keep it in line or it was coming off. Those were the two choices. Hair just shouldn’t be so much work. So, it came off.

It’s not that I didn’t think about it. When I was in Kansas last week the humidity overpowered the conditioner that usually calms it down a bit. Visions of shaving my head started entering my thoughts. It became inevitable. Just before I made the final decision, I stared into the bathroom sink in between glances at myself. The face needed a shave as well. It was difficult to picture myself with a shaved head again. I had done it once before.

I went into my office to get some large scissors for the initial cut. There’s was just no way of getting clippers through my hair without giving myself a sloppy chop to begin with. I cut and cut some more. Have you ever grabbed a mass of your own hair and cut it? The sound is somewhat disturbing. It falls somewhere between the ripping of a cotton shirt and fingers down a chalk board.

The top was first. I wanted to at least have a little fun with it. You know, the reverse mohawk and stuff. Hair was all over the place. As much as I tried to get it all in the sink, it ended up on the floor, in my eyes, in my ears, under my finger nails and it clogged my clippers in no time. The amount of hair in the sink was incredible.

I jumped in the shower and did what people do in there. I didn’t need to use much shampoo and the conditioner went untouched. Perhaps I’ll just let it grow out, so I can do it all over again. For the time being, I’m going to enjoy driving with the windows rolled down.

Adventures With Hair

[WARNING: The photos attached to this story contain from-the-waist-up nudity. If you are offended by such things, perhaps you should just go away.]

I was tired of having hair. Driving with the windows rolled down was out of the question and forget about running my fingers through it. Both scenarios would result in a disgusting afro mess. Either I started using product to keep it in line or it was coming off. Those were the two choices. Hair just shouldn’t be so much work. So, it came off.

It’s not that I didn’t think about it. When I was in Kansas last week the humidity overpowered the conditioner that usually calms it down a bit. Visions of shaving my head started entering my thoughts. It became inevitable. Just before I made the final decision, I stared into the bathroom sink in between glances at myself. The face needed a shave as well. It was difficult to picture myself with a shaved head again. I had done it once before.

I went into my office to get some large scissors for the initial cut. There’s was just no way of getting clippers through my hair without giving myself a sloppy chop to begin with. I cut and cut some more. Have you ever grabbed a mass of your own hair and cut it? The sound is somewhat disturbing. It falls somewhere between the ripping of a cotton shirt and fingers down a chalk board.

The top was first. I wanted to at least have a little fun with it. You know, the reverse mohawk and stuff. Hair was all over the place. As much as I tried to get it all in the sink, it ended up on the floor, in my eyes, in my ears, under my finger nails and it clogged my clippers in no time. The amount of hair in the sink was incredible.

I jumped in the shower and did what people do in there. I didn’t need to use much shampoo and the conditioner went untouched. Perhaps I’ll just let it grow out, so I can do it all over again. For the time being, I’m going to enjoy driving with the windows rolled down.

Friday Five – When Was The Last Time You&

1) …sent a handwritten letter? I wrote my dad a letter for Father’s Day. Other than holidays of that nature, you won’t find me handwriting much of anything. On ocassion I hand write my journal entries or other writing, but most of the time it’s all done on the computer.

2) …baked something from scratch or made something by hand? My defintion of baking is putting something in the micorowave, cooking something pre-packaged on the stove or warming something up in the toaster oven. The last time I cooked something was at least a year ago, if not longer. I honestly don’t even remember.

3) …camped in a tent? The last time I camped in a tent was on New Year’s Eve 2000. I was in Sequoia National Park with my dog and girlfriend at the time. If it wasn’t the best New Year’s I have ever had, then it was at the very least, the most beautiful. We had a fire going and just watched the stars and froze our asses off. It was seventeen degrees when we woke up in the morning.

4) …volunteered your time to church, school, or community? I volunteer my time to you, dear readers, every time I post to this site or the other one. Isn’t that enough? I give money to good causes and email a lot of letters to politicians about issues I care about.

5) …helped a stranger? I’ll just post a journal entry from November 9, 2001 to answer this one.

I had to do something to make me feel a little human…or something. It was actually a friend’s suggestion to take a walk down Hollywood Blvd, which I have never done in the nearly four years that I have lived in Los Angeles. So I drove to Hollywood and Highland, parked and set out walking up and down Hollywood Blvd. to look for some homeless people to give some money to. I didn’t give everything away because I really didn’t run in to that many. As a matter of fact, the first guy that I saw sitting down against a wall with his legs pulled into his chest, I asked, “Can I help you?”

“Are you a cop,” he replied.

I chuckled and shook my head, “no.”

He said he was looking for crack or dope. I said I really couldn’t help him out with that. I even offered him some money, but he didn’t take it.

The next guy I ran in to had just gotten in from Denver via the Greyhound. He was a trashy punk kid that probably hadn’t showered in a while. He said he painted houses and it was getting too cold in Colorado, so he decided to come here. I sat and talked with him for a while. He was a 20 year-old with broken teeth and some crusty blood on his lip.

I sat squated down next to him. I asked him what he was going to do. He said he was going to get a job counselor and get some food stamps while he was here and look for work. I asked if he would be able to find work very easily and he replied with an enthusiastic, “yes.”

“Last time I was in town, I found work in no time,” he explained.

I asked if he wrote or read and he pulled out some science fiction book that was stuffed in his sleeping bag that was attached to his backpack.

“I go to the library during the day and check out some books and magazines, mostly. I also use the Internet.”

I had to wonder what he used the Internet for, but I did’t ask. I didn’t feel sorry for him. I didn’t feel anything really. I spoke to him as a human being and not down to him in any way. I told him to take care, gave him a few bucks and continued on my way.

It was amazing to me what Hollywood Blvd. looked like. I don’t know what I was expecting. It was certainly looking a lot cleaner. They’re building the area up to look like Times Square or something. I saw a lot stars on the sidewalk, of course.

I just kept walking. Eventually I made it to La Brea, crossed the street and walked east again. They were blocking a major section of the street off for a film, so I had to turn around and cross to the other side of the street. I peaked in some stores and just watched the sidewalk pass before my feet. It was nice to be out and maybe I was doing something good, if not for me, for a few other people. I stopped at a newsstand on the corner of Cuheanga and picked up a back of smokes. A guy was wheeling himself across the intersecion that I was about to cross. I looked at him.

“Can you help a homeless guy out?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course,” I replied.

“God bless you.”

I smiled,“ no, God bless you.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because we’re all just human, man.”

He stuck out his filthy hand to shake. I stared at the stub left from an amputated leg for a second. I took his hand in mine and shook it. That felt good. Though I didn’t dare do anything with that hand. I found myself afraid of what filth was now on my hand. I crossed the intersection, smoking my cigarette.

As I got close to Highland again I ran into the punk that I gave some money to. He was with a couple of other young punks and a little puppy. They asked if I could spare some change for a burger or something. I gave them a five to split. One of them, a kid with a mohawk, asked if he could buy a smoke off me. I politely said no, but said I would give him some. I pulled out several smokes from my pack and handed them over. He thanked me and I was on my way.

Friday Five – When Was The Last Time You…

1) …sent a handwritten letter? I wrote my dad a letter for Father’s Day. Other than holidays of that nature, you won’t find me handwriting much of anything. On ocassion I hand write my journal entries or other writing, but most of the time it’s all done on the computer.

2) …baked something from scratch or made something by hand? My defintion of baking is putting something in the micorowave, cooking something pre-packaged on the stove or warming something up in the toaster oven. The last time I cooked something was at least a year ago, if not longer. I honestly don’t even remember.

3) …camped in a tent? The last time I camped in a tent was on New Year’s Eve 2000. I was in Sequoia National Park with my dog and girlfriend at the time. If it wasn’t the best New Year’s I have ever had, then it was at the very least, the most beautiful. We had a fire going and just watched the stars and froze our asses off. It was seventeen degrees when we woke up in the morning.

4) …volunteered your time to church, school, or community? I volunteer my time to you, dear readers, every time I post to this site or the other one. Isn’t that enough? I give money to good causes and email a lot of letters to politicians about issues I care about.

5) …helped a stranger? I’ll just post a journal entry from November 9, 2001 to answer this one.

I had to do something to make me feel a little human…or something. It was actually a friend’s suggestion to take a walk down Hollywood Blvd, which I have never done in the nearly four years that I have lived in Los Angeles. So I drove to Hollywood and Highland, parked and set out walking up and down Hollywood Blvd. to look for some homeless people to give some money to. I didn’t give everything away because I really didn’t run in to that many. As a matter of fact, the first guy that I saw sitting down against a wall with his legs pulled into his chest, I asked, “Can I help you?”

“Are you a cop,” he replied.

I chuckled and shook my head, “no.”

He said he was looking for crack or dope. I said I really couldn’t help him out with that. I even offered him some money, but he didn’t take it.

The next guy I ran in to had just gotten in from Denver via the Greyhound. He was a trashy punk kid that probably hadn’t showered in a while. He said he painted houses and it was getting too cold in Colorado, so he decided to come here. I sat and talked with him for a while. He was a 20 year-old with broken teeth and some crusty blood on his lip.

I sat squated down next to him. I asked him what he was going to do. He said he was going to get a job counselor and get some food stamps while he was here and look for work. I asked if he would be able to find work very easily and he replied with an enthusiastic, “yes.”

“Last time I was in town, I found work in no time,” he explained.

I asked if he wrote or read and he pulled out some science fiction book that was stuffed in his sleeping bag that was attached to his backpack.

“I go to the library during the day and check out some books and magazines, mostly. I also use the Internet.”

I had to wonder what he used the Internet for, but I did’t ask. I didn’t feel sorry for him. I didn’t feel anything really. I spoke to him as a human being and not down to him in any way. I told him to take care, gave him a few bucks and continued on my way.

It was amazing to me what Hollywood Blvd. looked like. I don’t know what I was expecting. It was certainly looking a lot cleaner. They’re building the area up to look like Times Square or something. I saw a lot stars on the sidewalk, of course.

I just kept walking. Eventually I made it to La Brea, crossed the street and walked east again. They were blocking a major section of the street off for a film, so I had to turn around and cross to the other side of the street. I peaked in some stores and just watched the sidewalk pass before my feet. It was nice to be out and maybe I was doing something good, if not for me, for a few other people. I stopped at a newsstand on the corner of Cuheanga and picked up a back of smokes. A guy was wheeling himself across the intersecion that I was about to cross. I looked at him.

“Can you help a homeless guy out?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course,” I replied.

“God bless you.”

I smiled,” no, God bless you.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because we’re all just human, man.”

He stuck out his filthy hand to shake. I stared at the stub left from an amputated leg for a second. I took his hand in mine and shook it. That felt good. Though I didn’t dare do anything with that hand. I found myself afraid of what filth was now on my hand. I crossed the intersection, smoking my cigarette.

As I got close to Highland again I ran into the punk that I gave some money to. He was with a couple of other young punks and a little puppy. They asked if I could spare some change for a burger or something. I gave them a five to split. One of them, a kid with a mohawk, asked if he could buy a smoke off me. I politely said no, but said I would give him some. I pulled out several smokes from my pack and handed them over. He thanked me and I was on my way.

The Monthly Mix – June 2002

The Monthly Mix for June has been posted. Get to downloading some fine music. Upcoming releases that we think you should know about can now be found on this page as well. Please enjoy and don’t forget to purchase the stuff you like.

The Monthly Mix – June 2002

The Monthly Mix for June has been posted. Get to downloading some fine music. Upcoming releases that we think you should know about can now be found on this page as well. Please enjoy and don’t forget to purchase the stuff you like.

Who Is Crushing?

I find it a little ironic that days after posting the fact that I placed an online personal, I get the following email:

From: Send A Crush
To: Brad Barrish
Subject: Someone you know has a crush on you!

Someone you know has anonymously sent you this email to let you know they have a crush on you.

If you can guess their email, we’ll tell you if you’re right!

Click here to find out who likes you!

Who are you? I’m not guessing. I’m sure I already just invited more spam into my inbox by clicking the link. They’re so tricky these days. They pray on whores. You assholes.

No Sleep Till&

No Sleep Till…

When asked about what I would wish for, if I was given a single semi-realistic wish, my answer has been the same for as long as I can remember. I would wish that I never felt the sensation of being tired. It’s not that I mind sleeping. I actually enjoy it, especially when I have amazing dreams or nightmares, but the ability to decide when I sleep would be nothing short of a dream come true.

The possibilities of reading a book in one sitting, driving cross-country or writing a novel are now just a pill away. I would venture to guess that despite it’s good intentions for keeping pilots awake, helping narcoleptics and other people with sleeping disorders and enabling terminally ill patients to enjoy their last few moments awake, Modafinil certainly has the danger of becoming the next party drug. I certainly would try it out, though I can’t help but be a bit skeptical about the damage it could do. I mean we are talking about messing with nature here.

I’m conflicted when it comes to biotechnology. Part of me would want to be the first in line to get implants that would adjust the climate control of a room when I walked in, allowed me to see clearly in pitch-black darkness or gave me other super-human abilities. The other part of me says, ‘don’t fuck with mother nature.’I’m quite certain all of those abilities will become reality during my lifetime, question is, will I be a specimen?

Who Is Crushing?

I find it a little ironic that days after posting the fact that I placed an online personal, I get the following email:

From: Send A Crush
To: Brad Barrish
Subject: Someone you know has a crush on you!

Someone you know has anonymously sent you this email to let you know they have a crush on you.

If you can guess their email, we’ll tell you if you’re right!

Click here to find out who likes you!

Who are you? I’m not guessing. I’m sure I already just invited more spam into my inbox by clicking the link. They’re so tricky these days. They pray on whores. You assholes.

No Sleep Till…

No Sleep Till…

When asked about what I would wish for, if I was given a single semi-realistic wish, my answer has been the same for as long as I can remember. I would wish that I never felt the sensation of being tired. It’s not that I mind sleeping. I actually enjoy it, especially when I have amazing dreams or nightmares, but the ability to decide when I sleep would be nothing short of a dream come true.

The possibilities of reading a book in one sitting, driving cross-country or writing a novel are now just a pill away. I would venture to guess that despite it’s good intentions for keeping pilots awake, helping narcoleptics and other people with sleeping disorders and enabling terminally ill patients to enjoy their last few moments awake, Modafinil certainly has the danger of becoming the next party drug. I certainly would try it out, though I can’t help but be a bit skeptical about the damage it could do. I mean we are talking about messing with nature here.

I’m conflicted when it comes to biotechnology. Part of me would want to be the first in line to get implants that would adjust the climate control of a room when I walked in, allowed me to see clearly in pitch-black darkness or gave me other super-human abilities. The other part of me says, ‘don’t fuck with mother nature.’I’m quite certain all of those abilities will become reality during my lifetime, question is, will I be a specimen?