I can’t seem to stop cutting my hair. I guess, now, I will, since there is nothing left to cut. No guard. (No self-control.)
I suppose I could use a safety-razor to remove even the stubble, but, I played Sweeney Todd once —
I don’t think I can trust my(Sweeney)self with a razor near my throat — the urge to do myself in would be nearly irresistible. P.S. Look how thin I was then. Of course, my diet consisted of water, one can of tuna every other day, and ExLax; so, much as I’d like to be that weight again (— AND P.S., according to the latest BMI charts — I SHOULD BE —) I don’t think I’ll make it. And live. Damn. What happened to that carefree boy I was?
DAMN! SAME HAIRCUT!