Zack rocks a bald head. Like, rocks it. Kills it. Looks better with it because it’s become a big part of his whole vibe. And besides, how many regular-ass brown-haired dudes do we really need on this planet? I choose Zack.
You know Zack. You’ve seen him. He’s the guy, big dancing in the middle of a circle he created, just radiating love in every direction from the beacon of light that is his round, bald dome.
I’ve seen Zack build instant brotherhood with other bald dudes, giving them a warm welcome whenever they enter the room as if to say “when you’re here, you’re family.” He’s like the Olive Garden, only with less salad, fewer breadsticks, and no correlation to the national obesity epidemic.
Zack keeps it tight, rubs it for good luck, and never looks back. A total fucking #powerbald. And when combined with his unexpectedly dreamy yellow-green eyes and deep knowledge of your R&B catalog, you suddenly realize that Zack is kind of your type. How ’bout that?
Absent, non-existent, extinct. A safe neighborhood (cul de sac).
When I went to a baseball game at Yankee Stadium, one of my friends took a video of me. When I watched it later on, I realized things were definitely not looking good up there. Time to take action.
When I was 3 years old I had a great flowing mullet.
When it began receding, I decided to go with a comb-over to try and hide the fact that I was balding. Newsflash: It didn’t work.
Every day or every other day.
Me, myself, and I.
Consciously, pretty often. Subconsciously, probably constantly.
It feels great. Or maybe I’m hoping it may help it grow. But mostly, I’m probably rubbing without realizing it.
Being bald is definitely something that I like to make fun of myself for. I don’t mind laughing at myself a bit because it adds to my already strong sense of humor.
After a nice clean shave, people notice my head because of how it shines. And being bald is surprisingly helpful when meeting ladies. It makes everyone a bit more approachable when you’ve got such an easy icebreaker.
I like to look at it as we are in the same fraternity/club. When Jeep owners see other Jeep owners, they honk their horn at each other. I find myself immediately conversing with fellow bald men.