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"Sprout Heads" are a trend in China

Discussion in 'Costumes' started by The Princess of Bozonia, Mar 29, 2016.

  1. The Princess of Bozonia

    The Princess of Bozonia Administrator Staff Member

    The news is a few months old now, so I don't know if the plastic plant headwear is still quite that popular, but I think it merits inclusion here.

    Read more at: http:// www.nytimes.com/2015/10/08/world/asia/china-hair-trend-sprout-plant.html

    And if anyone wants to sport some bean sprouts of their own (what does that say about the cleanliness of your hair, I wonder?) you can easily Google up "sprout hair clips" or some variant.:cool:
     
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  2. Barry Daft (Mr. B. Daft)

    Barry Daft (Mr. B. Daft) Old Bucket Spitter

    Hahaha I'm using that one, thank you Pinkberry.
     
  3. Indecisive

    Indecisive Active Member

    That would work so great too with some type of boxing act and cauliflower ears. :applause:
     
  4. Grandpa Weatherbie

    Grandpa Weatherbie Well-Known Member

  5. The Princess of Bozonia

    The Princess of Bozonia Administrator Staff Member

    It just occurred to me that I really could have made a "geranium in your cranium" joke here. I must be slipping!
     
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  6. Barry Daft (Mr. B. Daft)

    Barry Daft (Mr. B. Daft) Old Bucket Spitter

    Too late Princess, somebody already did it. This is one of the very first stories I learned to tell as a clown and perform it wearing a hat with a long pink feather.

    Man with a Single Hair

    He was not bald... for on his shining cranium
    Remained one hair, it's colour pink geranium.
    Oh, how he idolized that single hair
    That, last of loved ones, grew luxuriant there.
    He counted it each morning: fondly viewed it
    This way and that way: carefully shampooed it.
    Brushed it, combed it, scented it, and oiled it,
    Dared scarcely put his hat on lest he spoiled it.
    In evening dress, arrayed for swell society,
    He'd part it in the middle for variety.
    Often he'd curl it, train it o'er his brow
    In careless fashion, as poets do now.
    Omitting nothing, with devoted care,
    He'd pet his hirsute pride, his single hair.

    But sad to tell! Ah bitter was the blow!
    There came a day A day of direst woe
    When in his soup it fell! He quickly spied it,
    rescued it, and on his napkin dried it,
    His only hair. His pet, his flowing tress,
    Chill was his forehead, deep his heart's distress.
    'I'm bald at last' he wailed, in bitter grief,
    'My only hair has fallen like a leaf.
    What ho! A taxidermist,' shouted he,
    'I'll have it stuffed, for all mankind to see.
    And when, within its case of glass installed,
    The world shall see I was not always bald.'
     
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