Plus: You've got to dye your hair.
If you get tagged for a game by a bigshot blogger you might feel quite tickled that such a grand dame would think about you.
But, if she tickled me, I wouldn't get excited. I'd just assume that she was desperate for a patsy who'd accept something nobody else wants. You see? I'm a man of the people with a head that is not easily swayed.
For instance, I got hit for the Five Things game by Carlton the Doorman. He's a nobody but what do I care? He's still a human being. You know what I'm sayin' ? And that's okay with me.
Speaking of human beings, you might think that certain people would have trouble playing any game of personal revelation because they've already told us everything there is to know.
Take the Ma'am, for instance. I remember what she bought herself for Christmas two years ago. But, no, there's more. She can't tell left from right unless she pictures herself facing Canada. Her face sweats when she eats hot food. And she started colouring her hair at the age of 23. But, of course, she told us that before.
And, indeed, that's my topic for today: dyeing your hair. There's a woman who comes into Starbucks occasionally to read the paper. I was drawn into a brief conversation with her last week and was surprised to find that she is much younger that I had assumed. I looked closely at her face and realized that it was unlined and that I had been led astray by her mop of grey hair. If she dyed it I would have thought her much younger than I did. You know what I'm sayin' ?
PS: I can't tell left from right unless I picture myself facing the blackboard in grade one.