Gradually, I realised I wasn't going anywhere flapping uncontrollably on the bathroom floor. Minoxidil was dripping off my nose and down my chin.
So I thought to myself, "Maybe I should tell them"
"Maybe this is my time"
So I strolled downstairs with my horseshoe pattern leading the way whilst I firmly gripped my hair-loss bumbag in my right hand.
I then muttered in a sombre voice "Dad, Mum - I have something to tell you"
"What?" my dad said with a puzzled look on his face.
"I...I....I.....I…… “
“I am over of my hair loss!"
That's when I told a joke in the manner of a hair loss suffer, by jumping over my hair loss bag.
At this stage, saliva was vigorously dripping from my mouth as I giggled like an adolescent retard.
I was sniffing frantically as I jumped over my hair loss bag like an Olympic athlete.
"I win gold hair loss star" I proudly yelled as I enthusiastically jumped.
I looked at my dad hoping he would be impressed.
He wasn’t.
Instead he had a look of disgust on his face, so I stopped jumping.
"Dad, I am sorry dad, my hair loss has done this to me" I said demanding pity.
"Mum, I am sorry for my hair loss" I then said apologetically.
"That's OK son, it isn't your fault" said my mum.
That' when I fell on the floor again, spattering spironolactone cream on my head whilst break dancing around a solitary bottle of Couvre.
"I am the original SNOW PONY" I proudly shouted as snot flew out of my nose.
"Noooooooooorwood" I then cried, as I ran up the stairs and back into my bathroom.
My dad and mum hugged as they saw the state I was in. My horse-shoe pattern has left me in dire straights and they knew the plight I had to face.
The next thing they heard was a loud clump outside.
There I was, splattered on the front garden, dressed in a minoxidil t-shirt and matching shorts with long grey socks and gola trainers.
My horse-shoe pattern was pointing south, and the spironolactone in my hand was pointing east.
All of a sudden, gold diggers dressed in khakis ran past clutching maps, as they studied the direction I was pointing them.
My dad and mum picked me up and helped me back in.
I then got up and nonchalantly strolled upstairs where I sat in the bathroom floor, reading hair loss weekly and lining up and studying the bulbs at the end of my shedded hairs.
2 hours later there was another a loud clump outside.
There I was again, splattered on the front garden, dressed in a minoxidil t-shirt and matching shorts with long grey socks and gola trainers.
I was at my wits end.
"I want to end it here and now" I shouted as my horse-shoe pattern was acting as a make shift street lamp.
I was then carried back in doors and told to wear Toppik because my big GAY bald head was on display.
I then ran back up to my bathroom jumped out the window only to land on a trampoline sponsored by none other then Regaine Extra Strength.
I then started jumping up and down with my Regaine t-shirt, and matching shorts, shouting “Nooooooooorwood has saved the dayâ€.
All of a sudden, a street party broke out.
Everyone was shaking hands and handing out free samples of Regaine.
No longer was I alone.
I was happy again.
