I Am A Big Wig
I am a big wig. Not my words. Well, they are my words here, but I typed them like dictation. Not an ear wig either, that’s something different. No one is going to call you an ear wig unless you are one. In which case, you wouldn’t be typing about it.
Ear wig mothers are very good to their young. They protect them and move the eggs around. So they say. For all I know, they are awful mothers, but science says, and science is always right.
Ear wig mothers are very good to their young. They protect them and move the eggs around. So they say. For all I know, they are awful mothers, but science says, and science is always right.
When I was officially pronounced big wig, I looked it up. It referred to people in old times who wore fabulous big wigs when the fashion was for such things. Nowadays, people would more likely call you a twat, but hey, that’s how fashion changes.
Not many people could afford big wigs, so those that could were successful, or criminals, or both.
People called them big wigs.
Not many people could afford big wigs, so those that could were successful, or criminals, or both.
People called them big wigs.
I am not sure that being called a big wig is a good thing anymore. It might have once been respectful, not so nowadays. It implies a certain mocking and resentment, as though you are some stuck-up rich person who doesn’t know what it’s like to have a small wig.
In certain corners of the internet, there are people who refer to others as big wigs. I have become aware of this. I became aware when someone shouted at me. “Oi bigwig,” they shouted. I was shocked. And then a bit pleased. I checked myself in the mirror and wondered if a wig, a big one, would suit me. I think it would.
“Mr Big Wig” I would call myself, or just Mark Big Wig when among friends. We would talk about how big my wig was, and how envious they were with their smaller wigs. “How did you get such a big wig,” one might say, and I would pretend not to have noticed how much bigger it was.
In certain corners of the internet, there are people who refer to others as big wigs. I have become aware of this. I became aware when someone shouted at me. “Oi bigwig,” they shouted. I was shocked. And then a bit pleased. I checked myself in the mirror and wondered if a wig, a big one, would suit me. I think it would.
“Mr Big Wig” I would call myself, or just Mark Big Wig when among friends. We would talk about how big my wig was, and how envious they were with their smaller wigs. “How did you get such a big wig,” one might say, and I would pretend not to have noticed how much bigger it was.
The truth is, I got my wig through damn hard work. You don’t get a wig this size without putting the hard yards in, after all. Not only that, around every corner is someone wanting to yank the wig from underneath you, er, from off your head, and run off shouting, “I got the wig.”
If I had a penny for every time that happens, I would have two pennies by now, or zero if I actually told the truth. But this is writing world, and in here, underneath my wig, the truth is an optional extra.
If I had a penny for every time that happens, I would have two pennies by now, or zero if I actually told the truth. But this is writing world, and in here, underneath my wig, the truth is an optional extra.
I think I have exhausted myself, and probably you as well. If you made it to the bottom, you deserve your own wig, slightly smaller than mine, of course.
Here’s to big wigs everywhere, but especially, right here.
Here’s to big wigs everywhere, but especially, right here.