Tomorrow, I'm getting my hair cut, my beard shaved, my goatee trimmed and all of the little places hair appears on an old mans head, cleaned up.

I have a 1000 appointment with the amazing Erica at the Beauty College. She is a beautiful mother of local kids, working her way through school for a career. She's almost there, and in the process has become the most sought after mens stylist in town.

She also has the most beautiful pale blue eyes, that you can't help but gaze into, as she hovers around your head.

I've lost my beard trimmer, somewhere around the house, so I just let it all go to hell, and let Erica fix it when I'm ready to travel. I tip her well.

While I'm there, I've decided to get my nails done, and I've just called and added it to my visit. Why should women have all the fun when it comes to nails?

I remember that road trip I made a while back with Mystery Woman. As we drove up North so I could buy some legal weed, I kept gazing at her toes, they were painted and lovely.

So, I'm going to have my finger nails manicured and styled into a Christmas motif, green and red, with white sprinkles to represent snow. I think my girl is coming out.

It should be a fun attraction as I navigate Christmas as an active participant this year. I'm old, I'm convoluted, and I don't give a flying fuck anymore, if people think I'm weird.

I thought about having my hair colored, but I'll start with the nails...