Fortune Favors the Bald

I found a few hairs on my pillow when I woke up this morning. This makes seventy four stray hairs that I've counted this year. I shudder to think how many other hairs I've missed that have gone down the shower drain. For those of you who don't know me, I am genetically fated to lose my hair. Every male on my mother's side of the family went bald by age 25. I'm 26 now, so I think I'm ok for the moment. I have nothing against the bald look. If anything, I think it's sexy as hell. Having little or no hair would almost be preferrable because I'd save tons of money by not having to buy hair products.

The thing that I'm worried about is the shape of my head. I can't pull off the bald look because my head is shaped like an alien. I'm not joking, it's huge. Whenever I get my hair cut, I have to get a style that draws attention to my horribly mis-shapen head. I just know that if I go bald, I'll get snatched by some secret service agents for fear of an impending invasion by the High Council of the planet Glarnaxhhh. They'd think I was the messenger of the high commander or something. I've got a weirdly shaped head and I can't do anything about it.

So now I guess I'm condemned to a life of fashionable hats and turbins. I'll be forced to join up with Helen Hunt and Ted Danson to join the big forehead club.