I just got a hair cut. It's been 8 months or so since the last hair cut because I hate haircuts. Every time I get one I think I complain about having to do it, and blog my fear. Anyway I haven't gotten any on this side of the Harbour Bridge since I've moved over here. The Inner West may try and make my hair alternative-trendy or bogan-attacked by a lawnmower. It's the difference between Newtown and Marrickville. It's the difference a suburb line makes.

Anyway, I plucked up my courage and went to Just Cuts at Marrickville Metro. When they ask me what I want I can never tell them because I'm hair style inarticulate. That's because I don't really know. You can't really say "Something that doesn't make me look like a doik. But not something too trendy either." So I mumbled something about having less hair. And I think that was it.

So Mr Haircutter did his job and now I look like Kevin Rudd. I thought as I left the hair dresser "It's probably not that bad you always think it's bad when you first get it done." But when I saw Ryan about a minute later he just burst out laughing.

Oh well. I guess this is why I get scared of hair cuts. But at least I know I won't look trendy.

However chances are my youth ministry is going go down the toilet. How am I ever going to be culturally relevant when I look like a politician?