So I wanted a hat that had the letter “X” on it, for my namesake and all and to fit into my new hood in Washington Heights where everyone, even babies in the crib, wear a baseball cap. When Spike Lee did his Malcolm X film, where the “X” stood for “10” hours long, the logo was a white “X” on a black background. Searching the Internet, I came across a picture of Spike Lee wearing the perfect X hat but only found one site selling an “X” hat in the cheap range which looked really gay and had even stupider-looking dudes modeling them.
So I had to go designer and, after the addition of “Swami X” on the back of the hat plus shipping, a friggin’ baseball cap was going to cost me $40! I may be broke but I still prefer to go in style. I laid my plastic down and ordered the hat!
The hat arrived and it looked pretty cool. It was a tight fit on my fat head, which I considered would be quite convenient in a whirlwind, but every time I went for a walk with my tighty “X,” I would arrive home with a mighty headache. The hat is made of some stretchy material created from one of Richard Simmons’ tiny striped red and white shorts dyed black and each time I put it on I would try to justify the purchase, that I’d get used to it, that this would remind me of that crazy time on the Fat Cruise where I woke up with Richard Simmons’ balls resting on my forehead. But the only pounding, besides the one I gave Richard Simmons’ ass on that cruise ship, was taking place in my head. So I had to take action.
I soaked leather straps in water and tied them around my head and then lay myself in the sun. I figured that as the straps dried and shrunk, they would squeeze my head and shrink it enough so that my “X” hat would provide a better fit. I kind of ignored the fact that this was used as a torture for people before waterboarding was invented. The drying process took a little longer than expected and as a result I received third degree burns on my face. At least for the moment the local peeps couldn’t tell that I was the only white boy in the hood.
When the blisters popped and my skin sloughed off, I was like Wile E. Coyote after one of his multi-daily disasters—back to the drawing board. I came back with my soaking wet leather headband only now I had sunscreen covering my face. I was nobody’s fool! And things seemed to be going well, until I heard a crack sound that I had hoped was the leather strap snapping but I think I’m pretty sure was my skull.
When I got home and looked in the mirror, there was a 2” ridge in my forehead where the strap had been. I thought this looked a little odd but my only alternative for even overall shrinkage was to wear one of those freaky S&M leather masks with the red ball in the mouth and the last time I wore one of those, Bruce Willis punched me in the fuckin’ head.
[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vlKZpPuqT3A&feature=related]
But other than the 2” mote that formed a circle around my head when it filled up with sweat, my hat now fit like a charm! For awhile I was feeling self-conscious when I took off my “X” hat but I got to thinking…if pants dragging down to your ankles is all the rage now, perhaps the Cro-Magnon look will be coming back in style and my ridged forehead will be considered pioneer in the industry. I’m hoping this is the case, as I just realized that I could have probably stretched out the hat instead!
A large man with a head the size of an orange walked into a bar and ordered a beer. The bartender slid him a brew. This repeated itself another couple of times until by the fourth beer the bartender said, “I have to ask you, what’s up with the tiny noggin’?”
The man said, “I was walking on a deserted beach and came across a lamp. Wondering if I could get any money selling it on eBay, I started to polish it with my arm. Suddenly a beautiful genie came out of the bottle and said she would grant me three wishes. I wished for a million dollars and I instantly received a message on my BlackBerry that a deposit of one millions dollars had been made to my bank account. I then asked for perfect health, as I have been plagued with a weak heart and bad lungs and don’t want to give up my pork rinds and cigarettes. Suddenly I was able to take a deep breath into my lungs like I haven’t since I was a little boy. I raced down the beach at top speed and came back equally fast and my heart was feeling great.
The genie asked, “And what do you want for your last wish?”
Looking at her beautiful face, her succulent lips… “How about a little head?” I asked.
SWAMI X, KITTY and LOKI. The reason I look mildly psychotic is because this was in the "tight 'X' hat" stage (not to mention that when the photo was snapped Kitty flinched and I lost my watch up her ass--or was that Loki's ass? Hard to tell, as none of us were wearing pants!)