Last night I dreamed that I was ex-communicated from the United Methodist Church. Apparently I was looking up information about hand-guns on a church computer or something. I have never been a member of the Methodist Church, and I have never shot a hand gun....


...oh yeah, another part of this dream had me convincing people to vomit up their frustrations, literally. Somehow I came across this metaphorical prophylactic to avoid the pains of life. I was able to rap people's spines with this short wooden rod to induce vomitting.

--gh

For twenty minutes my hair parted itself on the right side again. I was visiting ROTC cadets at Ft. Knox, so that might have had something to do with it.

my hair parted right.
Presently, it went right back.
...or is that "left back."

--gh

A few days back I rappelled off of a 37-foot tower. I put my life in the hands of people half my age.

I didn't die.
--gh

It's been said before, by those wiser than me. But it bears repeating:
Coke tastes better than Pepsi.
But Wild Cherry Pepsi tastes better than Cherry Coke.

--gh

The Event

It happened. It happened so quickly that I can barely remember the details of the incident. I was driving in a borrowed car.

Ginuwine was singing on this borrowed car stereo:

"Have You ever seen a thug up in the club

with a bottle turned up head

bobbing like Hell yeah"

I felt a twitch. Something was changing, but I could not put my finger on it.

"Have you ever seen a chick in the club

with a drink in the cup,

booty shaking like hell yeah"

Was Ginuwine talking to me?  I checked the mirror.

"So fresh so fly so sweet so polite so much too many

but we riding tonight"

My hair was changing.  My part, after 15 years, was
migrating.

"But it's the pimp talk daddy  ...the pimp walk

it's big pimpin' ova here playa it just starting

see we fresh w/ air ones"

My hair is now parted on the left side.  I have always thought that my part was dictated by the battle of calics, (one in the front, on the right, and one in the back, on the left.)  If I parted my hair on the right, the front looked okay, but the back risked standing up like Alfalfa.  If I parted on the left, my crown evened out okay,
but the front threatens to revolt.

What is the significance of this?  I can only guess.  After this supposedly Ginuwine-induced part change, I decided to look deeper.  Now I have learned that wear I part my hair says something about me.  According to Catherine and John Walters, I went from being sensitive to aggressive.  Quoting from this article:

"The Walters contend that people who part their hair on the right emphasize the right side of their brains and tend to be sensitive,
compassionate and good listeners. Those who take it to the left are generally more aggressive and assertive. Type A personalities. This idea was explored in a recent article in the New Yorker.



The Walters, who live in New York City, point out that of the 44 men who've been elected president of the United States, only three -- James Buchanan, Warren Harding and Ronald Reagan -- parted their hair on the right. The Walters sent their findings to Al Gore last summer. As a courtesy. Gore ignored them and continued to part his hair on the right. Bad move. He lost to leftie George W. Bush."
(http://www.hairlosstalk.com/newsletter/article102.htm)

I am part of a consipiracy.  Now that I understand my part in this, my roll will be established soon...

--gh

I thought I had something clever to say. I don't.
--gh

This collection of mug shots represents the entire reason for the existence of the Internet.