Why Shaun White’s new haircut broke my heart
This year’s Olympics have left me more depressed than a vegetarian at a Brazilian steakhouse.
And I’m not talking about the fifth snowflake-ring debacle, or the times my countrymen haven’t nailed their triple sow-cow twist and shout ice skate thingy. I’m talking about follicles.
Actually, the lack thereof.
You see, Shaun White and I were meant to be.
Exhibit A:
We have the same exact hair.
Well, we used to.
Exhibit B:
I’m not lamenting the fact that he was the Samson of the skateboarding world, and with the loss of his locks came the loss of a medal. No, I’m lamenting the loss of what our Christmas card would have looked like with us and our six children:
(It was inevitable at least one would pop out with recessive genes.)
For the sake of our future spawn and holiday greetings, consider this a passionate plea, Shaun White, to grow out your locks like Rapunzel once more.
I’ll be waiting.