Return of the Head-i

Good news, friends. After months of regrowing, my frozen, chapped scalp has finally produced enough hair that I can now mold it into what I have lovingly called in previous posts, The Whippy Dip.

[In my Environmental Ethics class, my hair was compared to a tsunami on Dress-Like-A-Natural-Disaster Day, and I can’t seem to shake that image.]

So have no more fears, faithful follower(s). My flippy-haired drawings are now accurate to the real life me. No more lies.

Death to the Whippy Dip

I underwent a major change today, sort of on a whim.  I’ve done it before, yet I seem to forget the emptiness I feel right after it happens. There’s just something missing. I’ll get over it soon, I’m sure.  I think.  I hope.

Anyway, here’s the change:  I no longer have what has been called The Jimmy Neutron...

The Astro Boy...

The Johnny Bravo...

The Kenickie...

...or as I so lovingly call it, The Whippy Dip.

Buzzed it right off.

My head is freezing.  This may constitute the purchase of a swanky new hat to keep my noggin from straight up snapping off like a frozen carrot.

A friend already asked me how my chemo’s going.

It’s much easier to draw myself with the Whippy Dip, so you’re just going to have to imagine that my hair is slowly growing back into all it’s Johnny Bravo glory.