Most of you know that I have hair.. Thick, luxurious hair. In fact, it's practically an afro. Whatever other failings I may have, personally or hygienically, never let it be said that my hair isn't full-bodied. But I am going to shave it off. For money. For YOUR money. The way it works is, you give me money, 10 or 20 or 1,000 bucks or whatever, and I shave my head on March 12. The money goes to the St. Baldrick's Foundation, a charity that raises money for children with cancer (the ritual shaving of the head is a tribute of sorts to the children, who lose their hair over the course of chemo and radiation treatments). Many of you might be thinking, "Didn't so-and-so run a marathon for money? And didn't that require months and months of training, grueling workouts and constant knee pain? Whereas you want us to give you money just for shaving your head? Doesn't that make you a giant wuss?" Harsh, dude. Harsh. First of all, you have no idea how lumpy my head is and how awful this is going to look. I'm talking Elephant Man John Merrick awful. It's gonna be a train wreck. Second, you apparently didn't read the waiver I had to sign to participate in the St. Baldrick's Day event: "I, an individual, have freely and voluntarily chosen to participate in this head-shaving event. I understand that there are certain risks associated with attending a head-shaving event and participation is not without risk to myself, employees, members of my family, or guests who may attend. I understand such risks include, but are not limited to, personal injury, property damage or loss, and death." You see that? Death. DEATH. I am literally putting my life on the line here. Isn't that worth a couple bucks? My death-defying head-shaving event will be held right here in Philly, at Fado's. Which means you are invited to have a few beers with me and watch the whole thing go down on March 12. Between the gobs of lumpy headed Irish people, charming Irish folk music, copious amounts of whiskey and the odd prospect of a knife fight between rival soccer fans breaking out, it promises to be a fun and exciting time! So, your options are: 1) Donate now (via the blue "donate" link above this bio), and you won't get a bunch of e-mails from me over the next month. It takes just a few minutes online, and your contributions are tax-deductible. 2) Donate now, and also show up at the event on March 12. 3) Don't donate now, meaning I'll send you e-mail after e-mail, until such point you snap, get in your car, drive to my house and stab me with a salad fork. Nobody wants that to happen. 4) Personally tell the kids with cancer you don't care about them. That's that. I'll humbly accept whatever your budget allows, among all of the other charitable solicitations you no doubt get every week, and just bear in mind that March 12 very well could be the last time you see me alive.