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.
We have the same exact hair.
Well, we used to.
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.