Libya, Syria, Gomez and Bieber splitting. It's time to take a second and focus on the important issue: Dave Navarro's hair. If you haven't seen it, let me fill you in. It's fucking beautiful. Gorgeous. It's one of the wonders of the world and we are blessed to witness it in its silky splendor. Hundreds of televisions are broken every year from people smashing the screen in failed attempts to run their fingers through his strands. I'm telling you with a straight face that his hair is the kind of thing they write sonnets about. There is only one problem with Dave Navarro's hair: It is on Dave Navarro.
We Need His Hair!
Aside from hair trumping every Pantene Pro V commercial ever, he's got nothing. The dude's a mess. He looks like Jafar if he worked a gas station register and spent his genie wishes on more corn chips and eyebrow pluckers. You look at him and expect a musk of KY and incense. His sexual preference is a heavily edited Photoshop layer that once did porn. Some women are called But-Her-Face, he's a But-His-Full-Appearance-and-Meta-Physical-Being kind of guy. The last time I saw him, AOL was mailing CDs inviting me to the internet, but now he's back, for whatever reason, with the locks of a goddess.
We Must Have His Hair!
And, tragically, it goes to waste. What's the point of the smoothest, healthiest hair in existence if it's squandered on a tattoo reality show where contestants permanently ruin people with these abominations? Is judging a bunch of ex-cons and Hot Topic devotees really the best use of God's greatest gift? And that's on a good day. Every moment of his existence there is so much awful and only one Dave Navarro's Hair. That beautiful mop, as majestic as it might be, is simply overwhelmed with garbage. Much like the random Radiohead song that follows Aqua, K-Ci & JoJo, and the Cherry Poppin' Daddies on Now That's What I Call Music, Dave Navarro's hair is better off being removed. It's simply too little, too late. Unless his goal in life is to look like a potential cast member of Real Housewives of Transylvania, the hair only distracts from his full and complete worthlessness.
Bring Me His Hair!
This is not new. Vader sequestered Leia, Hitler pillaged Jewish art, Navarro parts his hair. Beauty is always swallowed up by the heartless and left to curdle in waste. Hell, even Rose threw the necklace back in the ocean after Titanic. But this is different. This is complex. This is the Navarro Paradox. The spoil and the splendor are one and the same. It's like Beauty and the Beast walked into that machine from The Fly and their DNA got twisted up to create an aged rocker with a do worth dying for.
Hair Hair Hair!
It's simple. Though he probably spends hours a day brushing it, Dave Navarro does not know what he has. We would give it the respect it deserves. We would cherish it, love it. We would put his hair to a good use and maybe even put it on every once in awhile and pretend that we're beautiful. Ultimately, it's in his best interest to give the hair to us. Yes, that is the same argument used by thieves, conquistadors, slave owners, and American and Israeli settlers, but freeing the hair is of utmost importance. Action needs to be taken. Now. Take Navarro to court for full hair custody! Hack it off as he slumbers! Ask him kindly to donate it to charity!
We Need His Hair!
There's no easy way to put this, so I'll tell it like it is. Bouillon is died. He went missing before the weekend and yesterday I found his skeletonized remains at the bottom of the #3 soup vat during one of my swims. I thought the cream of mushroom soup had an especially nourishing taste, and a lot more clumps of fur and skin than usual.
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