My homey Pete just posted a response on my Scare Cut blog that weirded me out.
Long story short, my hair used to be so long that it would get stuck in the zipper of my bluejeans. 2 years ago I took the big step of going to get my first haircut in nearly 15 years and getting rid of the ol' Cousin It security blanket that I'd been hiding under for so long. I instilled all of my trust in a randomly picked stylist named Mackenzie at a trendy asshole rock and roll salon in Uptown called HAIR PO-LEESE.
As you can see in my profile pic, I am now a dapper, younger looking me who has to carry a can of mace around just to keep the ladies at a safe distance.. nowadays I can't even go check the mail without having to sign autographs. With my new look, after my band plays shows I throw my sweaty towel out into the audience and people dive for it like ravenous beasts. It usually ends up being torn in half. The lucky recipients will then cuddle it against their cheeks like they're the Snuggle fabric softener bear with a neatly folded pile of laundry.
Um, yeeeeeah... so moving right along here -
Turns out the girl responsible for my beauty makeover on that fateful July day and many others since is the sister of one of my high school buddies (Matt) whom I used to listen to Death Angel and play geetar with. What are the chances of that happening? Very slim, methinks. I recall at one of my many hair reduction sessions last Fall telling her all about my old high school friends that came out to see my band. Little did we both know one of those fellers happened to be her brother! I think I even documented it in a blog but am too lazy to search for it.
My main question is: Where is this streak of coincidence which links things together in areas where I really need it?
Dear Fate,
If you could spare a brother one more coincidence, please let it be a winning Powerball ticket.
Yours truly,
Micycle
p.s. - Matt, please ignore anything your sister might mention to you about me having a botched gender transition surgery. Or how I may have confessed to her my fantasy of giving a full body massage to a giant hairy man while wearing a cowboy costume. That was all just fabricated small talk.
