Some of us are of such a vintage that 77 can only ever mean [url=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/77_Sunset_Strip]one thing[/url] to us. In my case it is of my mother casting lustful sighs at Efrem Zimbalist Jr. I being very young, too young even to be hip, cast my juvenile eye at Edd Byrnes and his ever-present comb.
Attempts to present a hair comb to you today were thwarted by my lack of photographic skill. Instead, I have a pair of wool combs. Mindful of the week’s “Green” assignment, I dressed my combs with some green-dyed Wensleydale locks.
I’m still norappy. I may shoot this again later today, I’ll swap the lens first.