Friday, July 02, 2004


Finally rid of the Paul weller haircut: Thank Christ for that. Mike is the latest addition to Mervyn's crack team of haircaredroids and he did the biz. Unfortunately, I didn't get a John Cale circa 1964...but, hey, anything, even Death, is an improvement on a Paul Weller. Surreally, Mike, the new guy, looks (and talks) exactly like Vic Reeves. He even has the same black thick-rimmed glasses. For some strange reason Mervyn has placed a series of embroidered cushions (similar to what you might find in a Granny Cafe) with badly-sewn pictures of owls above the mirrors. It's a bit too much, quite frankly. And while Mike cut my hair, the radio played Howard Jones and Manfred Mann's Earth Band, which added to the general sense of unreality. The clientelle are a mixed bunch too; some middle-aged gaffers and a couple of skateboard kids who walked out with scraped-back wet-look Mullets of Death. Get on down there; I seriously recommend's not a haircut; it's a life-affirming experience. Take the whole family...dig up your dead relatives: there's ample free parking. But what's with the "70 years..." bit? No way he's that old. And "barbering" that a verb now? No one told me.


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