Had my haircut, this may not seem worth a mention but when you have a 2ft afro people notice. I must neaten up, have an interview at 7:30 on Tuesday (YES 7:30AM!). There's a new barber/ hairdressers opened around the corner from my house, I did have the fear that on entry with the question "Do you do afro hair?" whilst pointing at my voluptuous barnet the barbers would douse themselves with shaving alcohol or hairspray, set themselves alight and throw their burning bodies out through the front window (all whilst screaming with panic). When the barber simply replied "sure, what do you want to do with it?" I must've stood stunned and a truth be told a little disappointed for a good minute.
As a general rule I don't like barbers, they seem to have their own agenda, I say "this short" they go 2 inches shorter as though they get paid by the lb, so a trim becomes a full-on cut or a cut becomes a scalp. Most of the time I expect them to bat their mouths whilst yelling a native american war cry after they tell me what I owe them, I suppose the only thing that stops them doing that is that it would most likely stop you tipping them, and tip them you should because God knows they did more than you asked for.
This barber wasn't like that though, he actually listened to what I said, I couldn't believe it. I think I'll make him my barber wife or whatever you call the person you choose to cut your hair indefinitely. (Mental Note: I must be careful not to refer to him as my barber wife in any casual small talk we have as he cuts my hair, this may ruin the "relationship" and my hair)
SMASH!!!
That is the sound or rather the onomatopoeia of my diet going out the metaphorical window, well through it, like the imagined burning barbers. I wholeheartedly blame my wife who asked whether I could pick up some McDonald's for the kids. It was the same as sending a trembling, recovering alcoholic to the off licence to pick a drink up for them (a soft drink of course). I mean in fairness she did say she could have gone, but the damage was done, the psychological, diet murdering damage.
It wasn't a complete relapse, I did only have a chicken nugget happy meal .... (*whispering* with a double cheeseburger) .... It was more a "happy with a touch of guilt" meal, that said the happiness far outweighed the guilt, it didn't even have "guilt" written on the box.
I love McDonalds, to be honest I don't even know if I like the taste of the food, not because I hoover it like a starving dog (but I also DO do that) but I recall a business studies lesson I had many years ago which outlined the mental re-conditioning put upon you by companies of their like.
It goes that as a child McDonald's is generally considered a treat or reward so you hold it in good favour already, on top of that you get a toy with your meal, another reward simply for eating food that you like, not even factoring in that there's a good chance you will go to or even have your own party there at some point which will most likely harbour good memories of having fun playing with friends. That feeling doesn't leave you as an adult, so you find adults having McDonalds as they feel they "deserve" it or even feeling good or with the "warmth of their youth" eating them.
It's all very clever, genius in fact, it's there in the name "Happy" meal what other food tells you the emotion you should feel as you eat it? (Heinz are missing a trick with "You're feeling a bit better, Tomato Soup" though it's probably not quite as snappy)
It's so subtle and effective, I mean you would probably say something if every time you went to McDonalds your children were abducted by psychiatrists dressed as Ronald McDonald, the Hamburgalar and Grimace (The big purple thing, who you don't see any more, maybe they got rid as he looks like he's encouraging obesity ... and purpleness?) and were exposed to brainwashing propaganda videos with their eyes taped open. Yet the same thing is happening. Well obviously not exactly the same but the end results are similar, without the fear of clowns, burger thieves and overweight purple people you'd no doubt develop.
Anyway after the McDonalds the weekend descended into what can only be described as "take-out debauchery", but now I have clambered, greasy and satiated back on to the wagon.
Went to the football match, Villa v Sunderland, I expected McLeish to go for a draw, we drew, so he'll be happy, maybe he did lots of drawing as a child, I'm sure his work with a pencil is much better than that of a football manager, it wouldn't take more than a stickman to achieve this unfortunately. On the plus side a few fans behind me commented that with my new haircut I now "resemble a respectable member of society" they certainly know how to charm a fellow down at Villa Park, good work barber wife.
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