it's the hair

it's not using shampoo and conditioner and hoping that the next month will be alright; it's brushing the hair loads and in both directions with bouncy goa trance in the background while standing wrapped in nothing but the steam from the hot shower after coming home soaked through and freezing cold from a debate with my manager in which we agreed that mafia and gangs are a preferable alternative to thugs in uniform and with diplomatic immunity.

it's sitting in front of my pc with biltong, chai tea and the airconditioner's warmth about to get to work after an evening spent arguing the value of statistics* and the nature of reality and then tying up loose ends on a complex fix at the old office.

* statistics is a necessary tool, but has absolutely no bearing on predicting the outcome of an event outside of the controlled for variables and original context and as such cannot be used as evidence.

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confucius jokes are only funny in english. i find their direct translation to hebrew funny because of how severely they aren't.