My hair is perfect, now if I only had some sheep

What an awful title for a blog, but bear with me. Ever since Middle School when you either learn how to act cool or be outcast, I won best hair. Again in High school, I won some action because of the do. Now I try to get by with the least amount of effort possible, and get "hollywood hair comments ,, when I take off my helmet no less. I have gone to the other extreme and have made my penchant for lack of style almost so intendedly non-important that it rivals being conceited. Shoot.

I enjoy no hair, but for the last 8 years my wife has told me that she doesn't dig the "gimme a bottle, I'm going to Iraq" look that got us liquor in high school. So I have been looking for the right length, and after 8 years of searching I have settled on 2-3" inches on top. It stands up straight and curls so slightly at the ends. Borderline Pompadorean, it could be construed as eccentric. But I deem it comfortable. I can roll out of the shower about 15 mins before work and, depending on the shirt I wear, I look like I have primped all morning. It's beautiful- my wife's improvements on me, and my commute.

Next topic: I eat like a king. For me the sign of wealth is sheep. More poignantly, spring lambs, with an organic mint jelly. Grown on your own land, there is no better way to eat. My wife and I have cut out preservatives and pesticides, manufactured food, etc. and I have never felt better. I have lost weight by enjoying big fat Bratwursts and stuff with organic mayo and ketchup.

Tonight I had lamb shanks served over a bed of roasted lamb leg.

Are you kidding? I mean really, 80% of the US population dreams of having that meal- not to mention the 99.8% of shepherds around the globe that can't wait for the next feast. But my point is that the kings of the world since the dawn of time had probably called up a meal like that more than once a day.

It's good to be the king.