Thursday, May 26, 2005

Hair To Pay.

Ian’s hair slid across the table top, over saltshakers and breadbaskets, around tea saucers and napkin rings and into the woman’s hand, holding it tenderly.
“You look beautiful tonight” it’s says to the woman sitting across from Ian. “I can’t wait till we get back to the apartment and get freaky.”
She blushes at the suggestion and turns her head away in embarrassment. Instinctively, Ian’s hair moves up to her chin and caresses it.
“You smell beautiful, as well”, it whispers into her ear.
Ian, his hair, and his hairs date were having a meal in a beautiful local restaurant. Ian’s hair was really smitten by this one, like no one before her. It spent more time grooming itself, ensuring a shiny gloss, before each date. A separate moisturiser and conditioner, which is more expensive than a combination shampoo but money was irrelevant with her. Ian’s hair moved from the woman’s chin to her lips.
“We can’t do this”, she replies with hesitation. “What about Ian? He is attached to you!”
“Oh, don’t worry about him. I’ll cut off the air to his brain and knock him out cold before we do it.”
She didn’t seem relaxed by this so Ian’s hair tickled the skin behind her ear lobe. She began to brush it away, lightly at first but finally with more vigour.
“No, that’s not enough now. You’ll have to prove yourself with… something more.” Ian’s hair knew what she meant. It had resisted the temptation of finalising its existence but she was worth more than it could comprehend. Ian’s hair would do anything for this woman… and to her.
It moved back, from her ear, to into her hand and began gentle stroking her palm.
“I know what to do… but we need somewhere private”
They got Ian to pay for the meal and proceeded out of the restaurant into an adjacent alley. It was dark because of a broken streetlight, and reeking from rubbish in black, plastic bags and dumpsters that were scattered around. The dirty, brick walls were wet from leaking pipes and rain. A hobo snored at the other end of the alley, no doubt a cocaine addict.
She was frightened so Ian’s hair held her hands in his and told her it’ll be alright.
“This will hurt but don’t be afraid. It’ll be over quickly. It made a smile and she smiled back.
Ian sighed.
“Sorry about this Ian. It was fun but you knew it had to end.”
“Yea”, responded Ian happy that his life as a host for this parasite was finally coming to an end. “Just make it quick.”
So, with this, Ian took a step back against a wall and became tense. A cracking noise could be heard and his teeth were clenched. But apart from some movement from the hair, Ian was eerily frozen.
Suddenly, his mouth was forced open by a mass of hair, which extended out about a foot from his face and then poured down onto the ground in a long column. Hair began protruding from all over Ian. From around his eyes, out of his nose, spiking out of his ears, from under his fingernails, through the seat of his pants and more appeared on the top of his head. His skin became darker as more grew out of his pores. Inside Ian, streams of hair, devouring his entire physical being, were assimilating his organs. The person that was Ian was being erased from existence and replaced by a new being capable of so much more.
Possibly thirty seconds after the transformation had begun, a new person was standing in front of the beautiful woman, a being composed entirely of hair. It moved closer to it’s date and wrapped itself around her whispering, “It’s over… it’s over”.
They went home and made sweet love.


  1. I'm thinking two things, Harsh and I'm scared.
    I think my hair may be turning against me!

  2. How Kelly?
    Yeah, watch out for the hair.
    A couple of simple rules to follow.
    When cut, burn the remains.
    Poke regularly to show whoes boss.
    Remove bugs and wildlife from hair to deprive it of nourishment.

  3. Paul Mitchel eat you heart out.

    This is well done. It reminded me of some of Clive Barker's work.

  4. Oh shit I should have read you post before initiating a pre emptive strike on my hair. I burned it but I didn’t cut it off first. Shit its beginning to itch.

  5. Shit too late again. I just ate the last of the maggots and now the fire has spread to the chair.

  6. Shit man, you're fucked. Might as well just let yourself burn and hope the house doesn't go with you.

  7. Fuck that if I'm going down the house is coming with me! I am going to try running franticly from room to room bumping into furniture while screaming. That should but the fire out.

  8. Yes. YES. The fire will scream mercy.
    Anyway, I'm off for a while.

  9. Sabi>> do you like Clive Barker as well?
    Robert>> That was real funny. Ian in the end is like a werewolf; or Uncle Thing in the The Adams Family.

  10. I've read a lot of Clive Barker's work. It wa a while ago in high school but I remember enjoying it a lot. I thought his Imacajia (???) books were good.

    What happened to Ian? He's been very quiet for a few days. did he really get eaten by his hair?

  11. aww man. He was cute and funny. What a loss


  12. Yeah, but his hair is a motherfucker. Oh yeah!

  13. I'm going to use depilitory cream on that sonofabitch when I see it. It's on!

  14. Where is Ian? He be alive. Mayve still ill. Needs to rest to fight the disease.
    When he comes back he'll be stronger than ever.

  15. awesome.

    I'm gonna go listen to Celine Dion on a boat and throw some big ass diamonds in the water and think of him. My heart will go on. oh yeah motherfucker.

  16. Try to remeber.
    A set of exams finished.
    Efficient Alcohol consumption.
    Three days like tears in rain.Fists through ice cold glass.Uncontrollable laughter.Sickness.Ecstatic joy and woe.Coca cola for breakfast.Best of friends and deadliest of enemies.
    Storms fury burnt out.
    Where is it that we were together?

  17. MOTHERFUCKERS!!! I was eating Italian food and watching Colin Farrell be a G.I. Joe SWAT team member. Fuck my hair, I kicked its fucking ass from the inside out and sent that skanky bitch it had chatted up home, Shelly I think her name was....

  18. Wuh Mike.
    You should update your blog with a exploitative tale involving consumption.
    Do it.

  19. Are you SWAT or are you not, sir? my butler would ask me after he viewed that film.

  20. Yeah I'm totally SWAT. I'm stroking my M-4 right now.

  21. Yeah, you stroking something that shoots... but it ain't no gun... am I right or wot? Hur hur hur hur hur hur hur hur hur hur hur hur hur hur hur hur hur.

  22. Aw man, there are now officially too many places between blogger abd Myspace to visit and check out.
    Yeah, can't handle it.

  23. A body relearns how to operate without alcohol.Junk cells won't give up without a fight.
    Speach incoherent.
    Eyes sewn shut.

  24. Have you been participating in Junk functions, Mike. You know that shit will only give you good nights and bad mornings. No one needs that shit.
    Unless you write, then it's your bread and butter.

  25. Come on, Rob. If i can do it, you can do it. Don't give up now!

  26. But what what about the jam, Robert?

  27. The jam is for writers like fucking Dan Brown who can't write but need a hook.
    That's the Jam.

  28. I'm all for the fucking jam, give me the jam. I'll chew it up and spit it out, then I'll go dig up Sinatra and we'll have an orgy. You're content with butter, I'm gonna be covered in jam.

  29. Is this about scones? I find jam on scones to be far superior to butter.

  30. Damn fucking straight Mike. Far, far superior. Fucking Star Wars superior.

  31. Damn you Mike with your valid opinion. Asshole.
    But Kelly told me some news about you and him combining into some sort of super mega blogger than steps on lesser bloggers... or something.

  32. Siddious: I am the Senate!
    What a pro.A personal hero.They should rename the film "Darth Siddious has a Laugh"
    As for this megablog i am unsure as of yet.
    My content may prove to distasteful and strange(shit) for kelly although i would be delighted to have him on board.

  33. Also would it be terribly ungentlemanly like if I asked you to refer to me as M.I prefer not to use my Christian (hiss) name.
    M doesn't necessarily stand for Michael. It may stand for MANHOLE or another amusing word starting with M.

  34. Like Munich.

    Anyway, I'm off. Splurge.

  35. Robert. I looked at the source code for your page and didn't see anything that would cause those extra line. It looks normal noextra divider code or anything.

  36. Thanks fo looking. I am quite useless at these thing and am surprised that I could even figure out how to link and shit.

    Anyway, it's more of an annoyance than an actual problem. I'll get used to it eventually.
    Thanks again.