About 30 years ago (I'm showing my age again damn it)
I was on a college geology field trip in the deepest, darkest, most Deliverance type part of West Virginia. (For those who haven't had the pleasure of studying Geology, drinking large quantities of alcohol is just about required when ever doing any geology related field work. This is part of your university studies.

Anyway, after a good day of looking at rocks, we went to a little bar full of a number of who must of all been first cousins, brothers, sisters, etc. combined (as one person’s father could also be his grandfather and half-brother). They had a good local bluegrass band though so it was a lot of fun. After a couple of hours listening to the music, drinking lots of beer and whiskey, I was getting a bit festive (noisy). The band stopped in the middle of a song and told me to get a haircut. All of the cousins then glared at me. It probably would have been smart to leave, but we didn't and as there were about 10 of us, none of us related, they didn't pursue it. If I had been alone however, I sure one of the cousins, or all of them would have made me his/thier bitch.
(MichaelS wasn't picked again, Mon 9 Nov 2009, 15:05, Reply)