A study in ugly.

Ugly in spirit and ugly by nature. Some people are just unpleasant. There's pretty unpleasant, plain unpleasant, and ugly unpleasant. Not so much a spectrum but morass of nastiness. Really there's no need for this type of behaviour. However some people are compelled towards it. Just as some people are nice others simply are not. Being misunderstood is not an excuse.

Complete mental blankness!

Good lord! You don't need a traumatic experience to have one of those. Age, at any age can contribute to that situation. Disease as predetermined and as unfair as it can be is another unfortunate factor. Over physical and mental stimulation doesn't need to be traumatic to lead to memory loss. Likewise under stimulation wouldn't be to much help either. Of course there is always alcohol. More than one too many sherbets will always do the job. There are methods, including self choice, but they are all too sordid to mention here.
By the way where did you get those groovy glasses from Doc?

The comb over is not dead...

It's funny about what goes around. Who would have thought that the humble yet ego saving hairstyle that saved many men from excruciating embarrassment would be making a return? Frightening if it wasn't so true. Male youth around the globe at this very moment are discovering the self indulgent joys of the comb over. When I was young it looked stupid on the old and now that I am old it looks stupid on the young.

Styling products and their application

It always pays to look good. The effort to do so is its own reward. Never mind the amount of ruggedness or machismo you believe you need to complete your goal, working with what you have, or can add, is the key. Of couse don't forget to accessorise and only do so to bring attention to yourself. So, no matter the location or circumstance your looks, and how you carry them, are your own best friend.

Poetry and ugly don't mix.

Oh! To wish for a perfect world when all men can come together to enjoy a wistful sonnet or breath together in iambic pentameter. Yet those who are ugly of spirit will never know the joys of the gentle use of rhyme, alliteration, or the beauty of a well placed single word sentance. No. They will remain forever lost in a world of pettiness and meanness.

Stuka Sunday!

Sunday! How can they be stopped? Obsolete or not, Stuka Sunday is a law onto itself. Here they come from the sky itself. Stop them. Stop them! Not today. Not any day. Oh Stuka Sunday you are not want I wanted.

Big Moustache Big Gun

...just sayin'. This is no mystery. There is nothing to hide when you've got the goods. So when the big gun comes out it is time to handle it with quiet pride.
Second nature is no friend of the devil as idleness has no chance for an introduction when well handled equipment and panache come together.

Between skipping or dying lurks...

...the abyss! Well not really, and really no need to be so dramatic, but there is a choice. It is easy, no it is our duty, in our positions as arm chair critics to deliver exact advice at the right time. To skip away and not die may appear at first as an easy choice. However as choices go there appears to be some unease at this decision. If self justification has never been a strong point before, perhaps it becomes as no surprise to find it walking arm in arm in self preservation.

When your bottom drops out...

...oh the rejection...oh the dejection...oh the conjection (not really a word). Lost, sullen, and lonely (a real word) are what you become. It will be easy to blame yourself because you are wrong. It would be bad and inconsolable if you were acting on your own, however when all of you are involved the chance for any redemption goes so far west that it'll come back around and hit you in the back of the head as you watch it fly away.