02 March 2014
I didn’t want to go to the barbers as I didn’t want to get some random person breating their germs into my face during a hair cut so I asked the wife to cut my hair so that I don’t act like a giant germ carrying vessel and transport a shipment of bird flu from the barbers to a chemotherapy patient.
It’s not too bad a job. On the top, and the sides. The back makes me look a bit like a 80’s pop legend. The things I put myself through in the name of love.