Homer Simpson's hair transplant

There are links everywhere on the internet where you can watch the Simpsons, so you don't need my help in typing up google.com, but if you look up the Treehouse of Horror IX (season 10 ep. 4), you'll see an alarming tale of Homer Simpson being the beneficiary of Snake's 'do after he is fried in the electric chair. The one problem is, Snake vows revenge while on his death chair, so after the plant, Snake transfers his consciousness to Homer via the transplanted hair.

The hair is essentially a headcrab (or Liquid Snake's arm on Revolver Ocelot), digging through Homer's scalp into his brain, so that Homer is like a puppet for the now-deceased Snake. He behaves like the hair donor until bla bla bla you can watch the episode. I want to focus on the puppet part.

I got a new haircut recently, it's a cool modern hairstyle where I like to throw it up, kinda faux-hawk, kinda spiky, really badass. It has dominated my life since Friday.

I've since been to a few parties, gone to a few classes, hung out with my coworkers at work, and everything seems different. I'm normally a pretty sensitive, sometimes timid, often off-the-wall kinda guy, and while I still say things to make me the butt of every joke, my spiked hair has given me a weapon to be a lot more aggressive, a lot more angry and mean, a little bit edgy and cool, but mostly an eggheaded kneeball with few inhibitions and even less respect.

It's kind of annoying, because the haircut really does make me look better. The mere act of taking the time to style my hair has gotten me compliments from friends and coworkers alike (classmates don't much talk to each other anymore, in my experience). However, I felt better at first, but after 2 hours I started to feel like a complete douchefag whenever I been openin my fuckin trap of a mouth. I find myself saying hurtful, regretful things then trying to backpedal out of it, like I've come back from workin' out real hard over the summer and I'm trying to start fights.

It's an imperfect analogy, because the only puppeteer is the set of expectations in my brain correlating the way (generalization) people who look the way I do now ought to act (/generalization).

Really, can't I just fucking get a clue? It's tough to make an analysis of my behaviors, because my evaluations are functions of how I perceive people are reacting to me, and what I think of how I'm behaving, and those analyses are often less than 100% accurate. But really? I'm usually a somewhat thoughtful, open-minded, big-hearted, optimistic and hopeful young man. I thought people were too busy with their lives to notice it about me, so I got angry and started dressing like a slob, fuck it all. Now, I'm trying to take back over, but I haven't left behind my bitterness, and I'm taking it out on anyone who wants to notice me now.

Seriously, I'm the worst kind of person right now.