If only looks could actually kill

 

          I’m currently dealing with a new haircut after at least 30 years with a bob of varying lengths. And I think I’m happy with it – I can actually wash it and let it do what it wants, something I’ve literally and repeatedly dreamed about over the years. We all have a lotta hair here in Welcome Words Land, so to have even partially tamed the beast is major.

          Except after organizing my hair into what I thought was a trendy, wavy, tousled arrangement, I went to the high school Saturday morning in town to cast my vote in the local elections.

          The woman checking me in looked up and said, “It must be windy out.”

          She’s now dead to me.