Our Dare-Devil Hair Stylist

He is a "hair stylist", but I wouldn't really call my haircut a "hair style". It's just there, mostly brown with some slight blond on the edges from the Summer Sun. I part it to the side and usually have bangs. I don't put crap in it, I don't really care. So, it's pretty boring.

Hopefully, my piercing blue eyes and ginormous penis and rockstar ass are enough excitement that I don't need my hair to be.

Although, that's not to say that if I had great hair, I wouldn't do great things with it. I'm sure I would. I would save the planet with the best hair style EVER.

I wouldn't have to crane my neck to smell the flowers, they would bend their stems and lean my way just in order to catch a glimpse of my amazing hair.

And their petals would shiver as I walked by. I don't have to tell you what their stamens and pistils would do. I hate to brag, but I bet there'd be some premature pollinating going on...

Yeah. That's right. My hair style would even make plants horny.

And birds would stop in mid-flight and drop to the nearest perch to gaze at my luxurious, luminous locs.

They would think, "WOULD YOU JUST LOOK AT THAT SILKY NEST BUILDING MATERIAL?? IT'S JUST LUXURIOUS!! BUT, MORE THAN THAT, LOOK AT THE WAY IT'S STYLED!! IT'S SO TRES CHIC. I've always been envious of a nice crest! Bitch! Chirp, chirp, chirp."

My hair style would alter the evolution of botany as we know it and would turn the aviary world on its beak!

But alas...My hair will do no such thing without weaves, extensions, glue and wire.

I DID have a few braids with beads put in it one time when I was vacationing in the U.S. Virgin Islands with my ex-fiancee years ago. I'm not sure which looked more ridiculous, the braids with colored beads in MY hair? Or how that side of my head frizzed for days afterward when I removed said braids. I had half an afro...or half a frizz-fro. Whatever it was, it was enough to garner quizzical stares.

So, anyway...I managed to throw my back out again last week. And it's still pinging and panging. I'm taking it easy, stretching almost every hour and icing. I carry stress in my lower back, thus the two injuries in the last 3 months.

And just HOW did I throw my back out of whack because crack and back are whack?

It was EXTREMELY exciting and sexy. That's ALL you need to know. (I was turning to pick up a dish. A PLASTIC dish that probably weighs an ounce. It's aalllwwayys frickin' humbling.)

So, the other day, I hobbled into the salon where Will and I get our hair cut. Actually, we get ALL of our hairs cut there. Okay, not ALL of them, but many of them.

We used to go to that one chica who mangled our hair for $15. And the haircut would be fine for a few days, but then as it began to grow, we'd invariably have to add gel, or paste, or scotch tape to fix whatever she fucked up...which was usually most of our heads.

Not to mention, that was the place that announced to the free world that I had back hair and where I should go for its removal. Remember that? Yeah. Me too.

So, we go to "Ryan" now. Ryan is very cool. He's a young guy, wears more rings than Liberace, but somehow isn't flamboyant. He's not gay and isn't screaming cool, he just is. If you know what I mean...Kind of metro-sexual meets skateboarder meets surfer.

Well, when I went in the other day I asked him how he'd been and he replied that he had been fine, but that he hurt his shoulder and it was bothering him.

I said, "Oh, I hurt my back last week. How did you hurt your shoulder?"

And he nonchalantly replied, "Well, I was at a concert and went into the mosh pit. Normally it's fine, but these dudes were extra aggressive, so I got kind of slammed. It sucked. But, we still had a good time. How did you hurt your back?"

Needless to say, I did NOT want to reply that I turned and lifted a dish. A PLASTIC dish weighing an ounce. I wanted to say, "The mosh pit, huh? What a coincidence! Me too!"

Or, "Oh, it's an old injury that always flares up when I wrestle wild boar...naked."

Or, "Oh, dude, my chute caught on the propeller of the chopper and fuckin' flung my sorry ass around and around and around until I cut the straps and fell into the Ocean when I landed on the nose of a Great White and had to sucker-punch that crazy fucker and I was all like 'BAM! TAKE THAT, YOU STUPID FUCKIN' SHARK!' And then I had to swim to shore and my back was all 'Dude' and it was gnarly. But, it was still a good time."

But no.

I told him how I actually hurt it and we both got a good laugh from it. Like I said, he's cool. I told him that I was thrilled that he didn't injure it doing something like picking up a utensil.

So, anyway, would you like to see Ryan and the epitome of his coolness?

Here he is skate-boarding down Old San Marcos Pass here in Santa Barbara, which runs down the side of a mountain. He's the shirtless one, with the red hat and red and green SAIL trailing behind his skateboard. Yeah...I told you. Even when he goes flying off the road at the end of the video, he's still cool.