My only regret: not getting a mullet during the summer, so I could go to Ingram Dam and then tube down the river.

Not pictured: my homemade jean shorts, farmer's tan and my cowboy boots. And my Pasadena basketball wife beater I stole from David in high school.

Also, it would have been really fun to have gotten in line Tuesday looking like this, just so I could pretend to be a McCain supporter when in conversation with whoever was in earshot while about to enter the polling booth.

Please notice the Houston Oilers belt buckle, and the faint mustache.

I didn't want to cut my hair, but I knew I'd have to eventually. So I figured, why not just make a mullet for Halloween? And that's what I did. I went as Joe the Plumber (before he lost his hair) for the real Halloween.

And no one got the joke.

Andrew's friends -- at least the ones who think Neil Armstrong is the proud father of Lance -- didn't know how to act when they would meet me. It was a very unsure, awkward dynamic between me and them. Because I wouldn't make it obvious that this is not how I actually look. I'd just shake their hands and say, "What's up, I'm Bayless." At which point they'd give me a quick look over and then pretend that they hadn't just given me a quick look over, usually by averting their gaze or walking away. Or both.

It was really funny.

I had it for three days. But now it's gone. And so are the two and a half years worth of locks that I was growing for Locks of Love.

Some cancer survivor is going to get a wig in the near future made of my hair, and she is going to be looking fine.