Your forever hair

Allow me to be honest.

It's yesterday. Meaning, it's Thursday for you, while you're reading this, but it's Wednesday for me, as I am writing this. To be even more honest, when I woke up this morning I had no idea what I'd do to fill tomorrow's slot.

Granted, I could have simply not posted. The world would not have skipped a beat.

The trains will keep running. And Captain Ouchie Foot will continue stonewalling and gaslighting the uninformed masses who drink his particular brand of Kool Aid.

I'll give the man credit, he is a great grifter. As David Mamet often points out in his plays and his movies, a good con man leaves his "mark" feeling like he or she got the better end of the deal. This week's tiki torch rally in Orlando proved that.

In any case, I had nothing to put here. And between work, the preparation of my new book, and the unexpected and unfunded remodeling of my master bathroom, I've had a lot on my plate.

But the interwebs work in magical ways. Because this morning (Wednesday) as I was sharing yesterday's post, I noticed a banner ad on my page. Keep in mind, I and the 8 billion other people who inhabit this earth, never click on banner ads. Never. But this one caught my attention.

Pictured above you'll find Tony, in his Before and After photos. Can you spot the difference, emphasis on the word spot?

Allow me to introduce you to the wonderful world of scalp micropigmentation.

I literally had to do a double take on this and make sure it was not one of my friends pranking me. They do that kind of stuff. But this is real. In that the ad is real. The artificial scalp micro pigmentation is not real hair at all. They're tiny little dots of embedded ink.

It's a hair tattoo.

In other words, why look like a bald man with a shaved head when you can look like a bald man with a shaved head that might be on its way back to growing hair?

I don't get it. And I don't know whether to chalk this up to extreme misguided vanity.

Or if it's just another symptom of a world gone mad, a world I no longer understand, a world where presidents re-enact news interviews as if they were a scene in a reality TV show, a world where noisy windmills cause cancer, a world where 60 million Americans trust their fate, and the fate of humanity, to a man who can't spell hamburger and has the mental capacity of a slow-witted garden slug.