We Hear That...

Hair today... Gone tomorrow

Earwig just couldn't let Dick go without a parting shot (that's enough hair puns - ed) at his crowning glory.

Of course it's a well known fact that Advocaat's barnet is a retread, provided for him at considerable cost by a company called Hairlase (as in "I don't want to lase any more follicles") but what might not be so well known to our readers is the almost narcissistic vanity which possessed the Little Genital both to appear in the company's promotional literature and star in a glowing endorsement.

The publicity stuff features Dick - or to be more precise, the top of his cue ball noggin - in a series of pictures charting the progress of his treatment. Like a macabre comic strip, the napper is seen in the early days trying to cover the offensive bald bit by sweeping the longer side hair over the top in a classic Bobby Charlton move, "disguising the problem" as Harlase put it.

But the full horror cannot be hidden away from the glare of Hairlase's probing lens, and "the reality" is revealed in all its shocking nudity in picture 2. After a week he looks as if somebody has run over the top his skull with a lawn mower while he was sunbathing in the garden, but all's well after ten months when, "all transplanted hairs have emerged."

Dick can now crawl out from his clinical chrysalis, transmogrified from a baldy caterpillar into a slightly hairy butterfly. And what a difference it appears to his whole demeanour, if the other photographs are anything to go by. What looks like a grumpy village idiot with the fashion sense of Frankenstein's creation has been turned into a cool, sophisticated, man about town, grinning from ear to ear like a barbary ape.

So pleased was he, then, to be reunited with all those follicles which he thought had passed away forever, that he has penned a few words in praise of the Hairlase method. This was written in 1998 and is, we would respectfully suggest, a wee bit out of date.

We wouldn't dare put words into the mouth of a great man like Dick, but maybe you can tell us what you think of the 2001 endorsement.

1998 version: "I was afraid that the treatment would hurt but my fears were unfounded."
2001 version: "If you think having your head zapped by leaser beams for 14 months is sore you should try being 3:0 down at Parkhead after 11 minutes or losing your job to a guy whose team are eighth in the league at the time. THAT'S sore!

1998: "I am delighted that I made this decision and I now have plenty of hair to show for it."
2001:"If it wasn't for Bert Konterman and Lorenzo Amoruso I'd probably have all the hair I paid for in 1998."

1998: "Others comment on my new look."
2001: "People in Glasgow tell me I look like Ena Sharples, Mussolini and Les Dawson."

1998: "I have no hesitation in recommending Hairlase. The result speaks for itself."
2001: "My results against Celtic speak for themselves."

Vanity, vanity, all is vanity.

Dick still hasn't learned one of life's fundamental lessons. That is that women will never be equal to men until they can walk down the street with a bald head and a beer gut and still think they're adorable to the opposite sex.

Logged off

Alas Bert Konterman's famous website is no more.

Fed up with having to actually speak to the guy who kept it running, Bert has chucked in the towel to concentrate on other things. No more will be able to log on and get the great man's views on topics as diverse as Israeli secret service tactics and weapons, how his mother taught him all he knows about playing in defence, how it is Satan that causes Rangers to drop points and how massive levels of Nandrolone in Dutch beef herds are causing football stars to test positive for the banned substance.

He might start it up again, but for the time being it's football only. "When I am being sober and realistic," he said in a Sunday Mail interview, "I know how well I have been playing."

Which can only mean that the times we've clapped eyes on him he's been pissed and fantasising.

HAPPY NEW YEAR

The Earwig

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