The case for moderation in all things

You know that rule in skiing that you should always take your last run of the day before you get tired? Because it's always that last run, when your legs are like jelly and the light is getting flat, when you get hurt.

The same principle should apply to drinking beer when you're at the home of friends who are in the military and own clippers. The ones who are leaving to go do Army training in the desert for a month, so they ask you over for dinner to get rid of the food in their fridge. Oh, and they also have a "kegerator," i.e., a fridge rigged up to hold a keg of beer inside, with a tap on the outside. So they need to kill the keg before they leave, and they want you to help.

And you just happen to be a happy-go-lucky Aussie with an insanely thick head of hair and a "what the fuck" attitude. So when someone says, "hey, the keg's almost dead, how about one more?" you say, "sure!"

And then, somehow, the subject turns to haircuts. And you mention that you're in need for a trim, and "hey! we've got clippers! let's try a buzz cut! whee!"

And then this happens:

(The Cheese-and-Kisses isn't quite sure about your new 'do)

The good thing is, hair grows. And it doesn't look totally awful.

But still, you've learned your lesson.