baldness is the slave driver that does not relent

[drowninginshame]

Bang! I wake up with a start.

 

They slammed the fucking door for the millionth time. Every morning it's the same routine. Brother and Mother leave the house and they slam the door. I'm peacefully sleeping, off in my dream world, the only place in this physical realm in which I can be truly happy.

 

This is because the dream world is not consistent with the real world. Sometimes I'm bald in my dreams, sometimes I'm not. I live for those five minutes worth of dream time.

 

Every morning, they slam the door, and I sit straight up in bed. My room is right under the stairs, so it sounds like someone firing a gun in my room. This just goes to show you how illogical baldness has made me.

 

First of all, no one shoots a sleeping guy. I have never seen or heard of a sleeping person being shot. Strangulation seems to be a popular method.

 

Second, if for some bizarre reason they did decide to shoot me (an unprecedented event, since Hollywood has never done it), why bother jumping? Do I actually think I could go from a dead sleep to bullet-dodging speed?

 

Third, being a person of baldness, I should welcome guns fired towards me. In the unlikely event that I survived the two aforementioed events, why even bother fighting or dodging? Who only carries one bullet in their gun? If I did survive, I'd have no choice but to do my best James Hetfield impression, "Shoot me again, I ain't dead yet".

 

If you're a former alcoholic posing as the frontman in a thrash metal band, you may as well be. On the same page, if you are under the age of 30 and male pattern baldness is terminating hair follicles with extreme predjudice, you may as well be dead.

 

Let's look at a life.

 

You are born with a to do list.

 

A. Reproduce.

B. Die.

 

You spend your life trying to accomplish A. If you are balding, A becomes a futile, lifelong pursuit, and your ability to fully complete this to do list is slashed in half. I say to the bald man, and myself, who is balding, don't even bother with A. It's impossible to accomplish A, therefore you must cut out the middle man (A), and go straight to death. I didn't say the truth would be easy to take, I just said it would be true.

 

To illustrate this point I like to look at the caste system in India, and in the bald persons life. In India, people from lower classes are not allowed to associate with people from higher classes. At work, bald men are not allowed to associate with the more shapely females. A bold bald person might show some primitive form of incentive, such as making a conversation with one of these unattainable sperm receptacles. Sample conversation.

 

Bald Person: Hi, how are you today.

 

Female: Good. Great. I'm going to europe in 14 days.

 

Bald Person: Wow. Will you be seeing the Mona Lisa or Stonehenge?

 

Female: No, I don't like Julia Roberts, and I no longer watch the Simpons.

 

Bald Person: Nice talking to you. My life is only ending 20 seconds at a time.

 

See, even if it doesn't kill you, it will make you stupider.

 

My typical day starts with the gun shot. I rise out of bed like a python from a outhouse toilet, look in the mirror by my bed. Harvey Pekar's words, there's a reliable disappointment, coming from my lips. Why do I even bother looking at the mirror? Do I expect to just wake up one morning and be a normal human being? Stupid balding idiot.

 

I'm going to cover that mirror with a giant sign. Here's what it will say.

 

LET'S START THIS DAY ON A GOOD NOTE. HERE IS THE UPDATE YOU ARE LOOKING AT THE MIRROR FOR. YOU ARE GETTING MORE BODY HAIR SEEMINGLY BY THE HOUR, AND YOU HEAD HAIR IS DWINDLING. YOU ARE STILL AS UGLY AS YOU WERE YESTERDAY, AND SEEING YOURSELF WILL ONLY RUIN YOUR DAY.

 

Baldness is the slave driver that does not relent.

 

<pre class="ip-ubbcode-code-pre">Baldness defines me as a person.</pre>

[drowninginshame]

Bang! I wake up with a start.

 

They slammed the fucking door for the millionth time. Every morning it's the same routine. Brother and Mother leave the house and they slam the door. I'm peacefully sleeping, off in my dream world, the only place in this physical realm in which I can be truly happy.

 

This is because the dream world is not consistent with the real world. Sometimes I'm bald in my dreams, sometimes I'm not. I live for those five minutes worth of dream time.

 

Every morning, they slam the door, and I sit straight up in bed. My room is right under the stairs, so it sounds like someone firing a gun in my room. This just goes to show you how illogical baldness has made me.

 

First of all, no one shoots a sleeping guy. I have never seen or heard of a sleeping person being shot. Strangulation seems to be a popular method.

 

Second, if for some bizarre reason they did decide to shoot me (an unprecedented event, since Hollywood has never done it), why bother jumping? Do I actually think I could go from a dead sleep to bullet-dodging speed?

 

Third, being a person of baldness, I should welcome guns fired towards me. In the unlikely event that I survived the two aforementioed events, why even bother fighting or dodging? Who only carries one bullet in their gun? If I did survive, I'd have no choice but to do my best James Hetfield impression, "Shoot me again, I ain't dead yet".

 

If you're a former alcoholic posing as the frontman in a thrash metal band, you may as well be. On the same page, if you are under the age of 30 and male pattern baldness is terminating hair follicles with extreme predjudice, you may as well be dead.

 

Let's look at a life.

 

You are born with a to do list.

 

A. Reproduce.

B. Die.

 

You spend your life trying to accomplish A. If you are balding, A becomes a futile, lifelong pursuit, and your ability to fully complete this to do list is slashed in half. I say to the bald man, and myself, who is balding, don't even bother with A. It's impossible to accomplish A, therefore you must cut out the middle man (A), and go straight to death. I didn't say the truth would be easy to take, I just said it would be true.

 

To illustrate this point I like to look at the caste system in India, and in the bald persons life. In India, people from lower classes are not allowed to associate with people from higher classes. At work, bald men are not allowed to associate with the more shapely females. A bold bald person might show some primitive form of incentive, such as making a conversation with one of these unattainable sperm receptacles. Sample conversation.

 

Bald Person: Hi, how are you today.

 

Female: Good. Great. I'm going to europe in 14 days.

 

Bald Person: Wow. Will you be seeing the Mona Lisa or Stonehenge?

 

Female: No, I don't like Julia Roberts, and I no longer watch the Simpons.

 

Bald Person: Nice talking to you. My life is only ending 20 seconds at a time.

 

See, even if it doesn't kill you, it will make you stupider.

 

My typical day starts with the gun shot. I rise out of bed like a python from a outhouse toilet, look in the mirror by my bed. Harvey Pekar's words, there's a reliable disappointment, coming from my lips. Why do I even bother looking at the mirror? Do I expect to just wake up one morning and be a normal human being? Stupid balding idiot.

 

I'm going to cover that mirror with a giant sign. Here's what it will say.

 

LET'S START THIS DAY ON A GOOD NOTE. HERE IS THE UPDATE YOU ARE LOOKING AT THE MIRROR FOR. YOU ARE GETTING MORE BODY HAIR SEEMINGLY BY THE HOUR, AND YOU HEAD HAIR IS DWINDLING. YOU ARE STILL AS UGLY AS YOU WERE YESTERDAY, AND SEEING YOURSELF WILL ONLY RUIN YOUR DAY.

 

Baldness is the slave driver that does not relent.

 

<pre class="ip-ubbcode-code-pre">Baldness defines me as a person.</pre>

[backnats]

Interesting balding persective. I can relate to some of it. Not all of it. But it was enjoyable. We should form the Dead Balding Society.

 

Let it Grow.

[el guapo]

Haha that was a bit funny.

However I detect some sincerety in your post

and I am guessing that you take your balding a bit to seriously. yes you wont look as good bald but if you cant get laid its probably because you have cant talk to women, dress poorly or have low selfesteem.

 

I am balding (NW3-4) but i still pull as goodlooking chick as my friends who are models do.

They may have it easier but hey, chicks dig guys that can talk and that are assholes. (Or just one of the two)

 

I dont think that baldness is your problem you certainly have issues though and perhaps they could be addressed by getting laid with a not to un-attractive lady.

 

Just buy some nosecandy, dress like a pimp and head down to the nearest hip nightclub and spread the goods and have attitude. Trust me a bitch or two will go home with you if you have the balls to ask them.

 

just my 2 cents

 

El Guapo

[Guest]

he only gets laid in the dreams in which he has hair, I'm sure.

[drowninginshame]

last night I had a dream. I was with a couple guys I used to go to school with, and we were standing outside a church where I used to go to smoke pot.

 

A girl I used to work with was there as well, and she had us lined up, and she was giving us blowjobs. Anyhow, when it came time for my turn, I pulled my dick out, and watched it go from limp to super-erect. It probably stretched out to well over a foot long, which, needless to say is quite a bit larger than it actually is.

 

The guys I was with were stunned, and as the dick looked the kneeling girl in the face, she looked up at me with a stunned look on her face and gave this stupid laugh she always does.

 

Then I woke up.

 

<pre class="ip-ubbcode-code-pre">Baldness defines me as a person.</pre>

[Guest]

ok now i think you are just a bald perv

[HairBeThere]

your dreams consist of living home with mom, killing yourself, and getting a blow job in front of your friends... Damn, next thing will be wetting the bad, and something to do with farm animals. Leave me out!

[drowninginshame]

When I was young, I had the unfortunate (or so I thought at the time) happening, of me, walking in on my father as he was committing an act of bestiality.

 

Not a good way to start, since you already think I am lying, but I swear this is the truth.

 

He was in the family barn, and he was...engaging in intercourse with the horse, named Ben. Thankfully, he didn't see me, and I quietly hid behind a hay bale and watched. He probably spent about two hours engaged, on and off. I was repulsed, but somehow...drawn to it. I couldn't stop watching. It was like magnets in my eyes. I nearly, at least 3 times had to physically restrain myself from groaning aloud. Good thing, too, as he would have taken a hockey stick to my ass (no, not up it you perverts).

 

Neeless to say, this had a huge effect on my personal sexuality, and how I viewed sexuality. Soon after the event with my father, he died, and I was left man of the farm. I was under an extreme amount of pressure. To alleviate my frustrations, I quickly turned to bestiality, and soon after necro-bestiality, after I shot a jackal that was killing our chickens.

 

After, the...um...jackal incident, I felt disgusted by myself, and what I had done. As quickly as I could, I went and got myself into at least 5 different relationships with various girlfriends, all of which fell apart quite quickly. My last GF dumped me after I tried to open up a flesh wound (bleeding turns me on) during intercourse.

 

So enough with history, now to the future.

 

My grandma died last week, and I want to try necrophelia with a real human being. The only problem is, I always hated her, and I've always had a really hard time having sex with a person (or animal) that I hated.

 

I'm pretty sure you've all experienced intercourse with a hated one. Can you give me some advice, please?

 

<pre class="ip-ubbcode-code-pre">Baldness defines me as a person.</pre>

[el guapo]

Thats a pity abput your childhood.

You are definately a screwed up young man.

But there may still be hope; -its never to late to have you aborted.

 

Regarding your father and beastiality:

That is perfectly normal for sexually depraved men in the evolutional cul-de-sac in where your parents bred you. Im sure Im not to far from the truth here if I suggested that you grew up somewhere in the south in a neighbourhood on wheels.

 

If I were you i would not worry to much about your sexuality. There are always less fortunate individuals (Two or four legs) in south-east asian countries that would happily bend over for your desires in exchange for some dead presidents.

 

Keep us updated and let us know what you devolve into. But please dont let it go as far as turning into a republican, god knows thats what too many sexually confused rednecks such as yourself end up where all else fails .

 

Good luck and good bless America

 

Keep it real

 

El Guapo

[JohnH]

What a bunch of crap. Pat....Please?

[Nobel Victim]

Seriously chaps, I mean I have only glimpsed at this and I see very in here little to help the hair loss comunity.

 

NV

[sah1974]

Please delete these posts by drowning in shame and suspend his privileges. I would rather read rants and raves from Ken Belanger than hear about this fruitloop's dysfunctional childhood. It's bizarre, and it does not belong here.

[uncjim]

..had sex with Sy Sperling. It was greeted with the same outrage.

 

My recommendation is to laugh (this is damn funny stuff, as was the Sy Sperling piece) but don't respond. This guy is pulling a Janet Jackson in that he has created the audience that he had hoped for.

 

Wouldn't it have been delicious if Janet and Justin were allowed to just "stew in their own juices" because nobody responded?

 

"TEMPLES 'n CROWNS Forever!"

 

Uncjim's Journey

[Spitfire]

When I was young, I had the unfortunate (or so I thought at the time) happening, of me, walking in on my father as he was committing an act of bestiality.

 

Not a good way to start, since you already think I am lying, but I swear this is the truth.

 

He was in the family barn, and he was...engaging in intercourse with the horse, named Ben. Thankfully, he didn't see me, and I quietly hid behind a hay bale and watched. He probably spent about two hours engaged, on and off. I was repulsed, but somehow...drawn to it. I couldn't stop watching. It was like magnets in my eyes. I nearly, at least 3 times had to physically restrain myself from groaning aloud. Good thing, too, as he would have taken a hockey stick to my ass (no, not up it you perverts).

 

Neeless to say, this had a huge effect on my personal sexuality, and how I viewed sexuality. Soon after the event with my father, he died, and I was left man of the farm. I was under an extreme amount of pressure. To alleviate my frustrations, I quickly turned to bestiality, and soon after necro-bestiality, after I shot a jackal that was killing our chickens.

 

After, the...um...jackal incident, I felt disgusted by myself, and what I had done. As quickly as I could, I went and got myself into at least 5 different relationships with various girlfriends, all of which fell apart quite quickly. My last GF dumped me after I tried to open up a flesh wound (bleeding turns me on) during intercourse.

 

So enough with history, now to the future.

 

My grandma died last week, and I want to try necrophelia with a real human being. The only problem is, I always hated her, and I've always had a really hard time having sex with a person (or animal) that I hated.

 

I'm pretty sure you've all experienced intercourse with a hated one. Can you give me some advice, please?

 

<pre class="ip-ubbcode-code-pre">Baldness defines me as a person.</pre>

 

 

 

Drowninginshame, just wondering, you said you committed beastiality, was that with the Jackal? and if you had a orgasm would that then be called an "ejackalation"? ya know just to be clear here.

[the B spot]

Uh, Dude, WTF!!!!!

Being new to the forum,I don't like to see this type of posting. While some might find this funny, others could be offended, negating the positive effect this forum. A hair challenged brother just stumbling on the site could be misled as to the legitimacy of this forum.

 

Just my opinion

[Guest]

To answer your question, Barney Fife carried only one bullet in his gun.