Shaved my head by accident today.
I've just gotten over a head cold. I'd been planning to shave my mustache off -- I only had it in the first place because I just got bored of shaving one day, halfway through my beard, and it was the first decent place to stop. Now that my nose wasn't producing snot like a Mister Softee machine, I finally had the confidence that I'd be able to take a blade to my upper lip without cutting off my nose to spite my face. (Whatever they say, I can't think of any better way to spite your face than cutting off your nose. Don't knock it.)
So, shaved off the mustache, then put the attachment on the clippers and trim my hair. It'd been getting long lately -- not college-long, not gonna-braid-it long, but a little scruffy -- and I wanted to trim it down into a nice Mel Cooley.
Alas, twas not to be. The attachment for the clippers was jittery. It seemed to have trouble staying put, but it calmed down when I touched it to my head, so I crossed my fingers and clipped. But three-quarters -- hell, maybe seven-eighths -- of the way through trimming my head, the attachment shook itself apart, flying off the clippers. Problem was, I couldn't go to a tighter attachment -- this was the closest cut beyond the blades themselves.
So that's what I did. Pulled that clipper across my head, every which way, and then followed it up with my razor. Middle of February, the first time I feel good in days, and suddenly I go for the full Uncle Fester .
Gonna be chilly tonight.