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[personal profile] dearorlando
First off, let me just start this weeks advice by telling my loving, protective, caring cousin Bast THAT WAS NOT THAT FUCKIN' FUNNY, YOU BASTARD!

Polar bear, my arse.

There. Now that's THAT's taken care of, here's this week's question:

Dear Orlando,

Okay, I feel sort of dumb asking this, but what do you do with your hair to get it looking so nice? My girlfriend is all nutty for your hair, she says it looks so soft and touchable. I want her to be nutty for MY hair. Help a guy out?

- Harried in Harrisburg

Dear Harris,

*my ’nutty’ hair, harharhar....* You mean, you want her to be NUDDY for your hair, right? *wink!wink!*


It depends on which hair you’re talking about.

First off, there’s Will Turner the Pirate hair, arrrgh! I don’t really think of Will’s hair as soft and touchable, ‘cause it takes so much grease to tame that bad boy and keep it in the bun. Maybe when it’s down hanging all in my face—the ladies seem to think I’m fuckin’ hot with that hair. Somebody said I look like Jim Morrison with it down like that. Like a BAAAAAD BOY. *snickers* You’d think I had a baby face all the time from the way women squee’d when I wore it down like that and channeled my ‘early Johnny Depp’. The worst part of that hair was not washing it for days and days at a time. Months, even. After a while, it starts to bleedin’ SMELL. I mean, holy hell! MAN!


Now, Balian had nice hair, for a blacksmith cum knight/engineer/saviour (did I say ‘cum’??? heehee!). Cleaner than Will’s, (which is kinda odd since Willy was somehow ALWAYS wet and Balian lived in the desert) but not as clean as Drew Baylor. Drew had that nice, snuggly, soft white bathrobe with the clinky beer in the pockets, and a posh hotel room with unlimited hot water, not to mention all the complimentary little tiny cute bottles of shampoo and conditioner and the neat clear plastic shower cap to keep him dry if he just finished having a heated phone conversation and wanted a quick wan—I mean a fast rinse off without having to get his hair wet.

How about the Joe Byrne look? Just a beard away from Jimmy ‘The Calcium Kid’ Connelly. Lots of curls, short enough to wash and go, but still enough to sink your fingers into. Not like the jarhead look that Todd Blackburn had—talk about wash and go hair! I had more hair back then on my bollo—

*Ahem* Nevermind. I think my mum might be readin’ this.

Let’s get back to the hair, shall we? You want soft, touchable hair? Paris the Trojan Prince is where it’s at. Curly everywhere, no grease, let the wind blow like a hurricane and it still looked bloody AWESOME. Your girlfriend will be REACHIN’ for the Trojans if you have hair like Paris.

Eric and Brad used to get yelled at all the time for touching their Troy Boy hair, but not me! Aldo. he’s the hairstylist we had, he would sit me in the makeup chair, adjust all my little hairclips here and there, rub my scalp for a few minutes (that felt fuckin’ GREAT!), and then he’d take my chin in his moisturized palm and look deep into my eyes and just SMILE! Then he’d nudge me outta the chair, and he’d pat me on the bum and send me out the door.

Well, yeah, I suppose it WAS more like a squeeze than a pat, but still....

Eric called him the ‘Hair Nazi’. He does a pretty good imitation of Aldo saying, “Eric? Did you wash the hair? I TOLD you not to wash the hair! How can I work with this? Look at this!” He does all the hand gestures like Aldo and everything. He’s awesome. Eric, that is. Aldo’s awesome too, but Eric, he’s the BEST.

Oh. Wait, where were we? That’s right. HAIR.

If you want the softest hair, the MOST TOUCHABLE HAIR, always looking good without appearing to take any effort, ready to go from the footie field to the Oscars in a moment’s notice, you need Legolas Greenleaf hair. That stuff is self-cleaning and never gets out of place. Women just fall all over themselves trying to touch it. (Of course, with Legolas, touching would be a COMPLETE bung-up.) Legolas could fight off a thousand orcs, climb a tree, run a hundred kilometers, pick a dozen berries to go with his lembas for lunch, gather firewood, hunt down a flock of crows—oops, I mean crebain —, duck into the bushes, avoid the roaming hands of four hobbits/a wizard/a dwarf and oneTWO men, and still be ready to go to the Coronation in less than three minutes flat.

(Of course, don’t tell anybody, but Legolas was wearing a wig.)

Hey, Harris? Maybe you could just try some coconut shampoo and conditioner. That might do it, mate.

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