Hair Don’t


Oh no, Can it really be? Is the pompadour making yet another return? How many damn trips around the track can it get? I never liked it in the first place. No one is so short that piling your hair up to the point of being a traffic hazard is a good idea. Forget it. Stop it. Put down the comb and back away from the mousse.

Exhibit a. Zac Ephebe, or whatever is his name is, has never done much for me, but even I am moved to pity by an image that looks like his wee little neck might snap at any minute under the weight of all that hair.

And those of us of a certain age will remember the last time the poodle do reared it’s tortured head. The early 80s have so very much to answer for.

Certainly Maxwell Caulfield and Ryan Idol have both increased my pulse rate and my pants, but it was their manifold other charms rather than their bouffy dos that did it for me.

About mrpeenee

A former bon vivant and terror of a number of New Orleans bars in the mad, gay 1980s, I'm now quietly retired and widowed in San Francisco. I have a crooked nose due to an unfortunate Frisbee accident.

10 responses »

  1. Like Mr. P, Miss J is unmoved by Zac what’s-his-name. But every teeny-boppette is entitled to her icky crush. Once upon a time, Miss day could DIE for Donny Osmond. Something he and Zac have in common? Stupid, ridiculously long bangs hanging in the faces! At least with his pouf, Zac’s eyes can be gazed upon by his fangirls.


  2. Just the other day I asked my beauty operator if he would give me a pompadour and he started to unzip my pants. “No no no my other head!” He looked at me and laughed then asked, which hair I wanted cut?


  3. Ryan Idol! Now, <>there’s<> a blast from the past. He’s gone all legit, appearing on Broadway in such fare as the ill-fated revival of “The Ritz.” Of course, he spent most of his time onstage wearing nothing but a towel; he’s matured quite nicely into a humpy daddy type.


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