"Something just ain't right about that Boy"

By Brumus H.
Pity those poor mortals milling about the drugstore. I once numbered among them, braying and milling like sheep in limp-haired herds. Like them, I was satisfied to follow the same old morning routine, blindly accepting the shampoos of our forefathers and their forefather before them.
But armed with only a dream and a coupon I discovered in the Sunday newspaper insert, I DARED TO SWITCH BRANDS!!!
They thought me mad. They thought I was crazy. But look at me know! Look at my rich and easy-to-manage locks and tell me who’s crazy now! They think I didn’t see them shaking their heads, whispering behind their hands.
Damn their tiny minds!

The instant I entered my shower and squeezed a dime-sized dollop into my hand, I knew that a miracle was nigh, and their ignorant fear did not concern me. As I coaxed the lather into my hair I could feel the revitalizing power coursing through my hair, electrifying it to the very roots!

Like Archimedes, I sprang for my shower and shouted to the Heavens: “Behold! Gaze upon my head and ask yourself - is this the full-bodied head of hair of a madman?”

With small-mindedness, the “good people” now shun and malign me. The sidewalks seem to clear before my path, and my approach is greeted with the sound of slamming screen doors and sharp clicks of deadbolts locks, because I dared to pick forbidden fruit.

How they laughed at me at the drugstore! How they spat upon my dreams of healthy hair!
But they don’t laugh now as I vigorously toss my beautiful head of flowing lushful locks. Again and again I toss it , almost as if in slow motion.
I ask you, are theses the actions of an insane man?

Perhaps it is madness to have this lustrous and health of hair, if that is the case, then so be it! Let the name of Brumus be invoked in the same breath with other great madmen of infamy, as long as it is synonymous with the achievement of beautiful, manageable hair!

They call me a monster! The chastised me for playing God. Their greatest minds bark among themselves: “God did not intend us to have the hair of the Angels!”
It is them that are the limp and lifeless, heat damaged monsters!

Pity there is no resent picture of me before the transformation, that these dullards might compare it to the glorious after, for I have breathed the apple-scented greatness, I can never go back!

If you cannot come with me on journey into the unknown, then be gone!
And don’t wonder what happened to me, know only that I have changed shampoos, and I can no longer live amongst lesser men! HA!