A Quote by Rod Stewart

I've been lucky with my hair. I couldn't deal with it if I'd run out of barnet. Imagine me with a Bobby Charlton comb over. — © Rod Stewart
I've been lucky with my hair. I couldn't deal with it if I'd run out of barnet. Imagine me with a Bobby Charlton comb over.
A girl asked me if she could comb my hair. Nobody can comb my hair, I can’t even comb my hair.
They wanted to jump on their own bandwagon. Bobby Charlton had never made it as a manager. Bobby Moore hadn't either. I think they never stopped trying to put me in the same category. That was the road they went down with me.
It wasn't cool that I didn't comb my hair and had books and wore glasses. It was never cool be a nerd and tomboy, and these days, it really is. And I'm like, 'You guys have no idea what I went through.' How many times my mother yelled at me to comb my hair.
Just as I went into politics because Joe died, if anything happened to me tomorrow, my brother Bobby would run for my seat in the Senate. And if Bobby died, Teddy would take over for him.
Not many people know this but my team in England is Manchester United. Bobby Charlton, Denis Law, George Best, all great players. We created a bond when we played each other and I still speak to Bob from time to time, though I can't get used to calling him 'Sir Bobby.'
You don't comb the mirror, you comb your own hair and the mirror changes.
Bobby Charlton's record was quite substantial. I couldn't think anybody would beat that. It is an achievement par excellence.
I was a tough kid with the jeans, the concert shirt with the flannel over it, the comb in the back pocket and the feathered hair.
Golf mogul Donald Trump sports an arrangement of hair that is less a comb-over than a 'do-over, a candy-floss confection of gossamer wisps that comes off as the clumsiest cover-up since Watergate.
I actually don't feel the years passing, although the younger players make sure to remind me of my age. If there's a clip of Bobby Charlton playing or a game's in black and white they'll ask: Were you playing in that Giggsy?
I might have been told to put a comb through my hair once or twice - by my mother!
To protect my hair from breaking, I never comb my hair when it's wet.
First draft: let it run. Turn all the knobs up to 11. Second draft: hell. Cut it down and cut it into shape. Third draft: comb its nose and blow its hair. I usually find that most of the book will have handed itself to me on that first draft.
I really don't care about the response to my hair this is just how my hair is. I don't take care of it, or comb it, or put anything in it, or style it or anything. When people comment on it, it is funny to me that it draws such attention. It makes me realize how insignificant that sort of thing is.
Human hair takes much more attention, as far as holding the style. You have to comb it, straighten it out, and wash and dry it.
There is a theorem that colloquially translates, You cannot comb the hair on a bowling ball. ... Clearly, none of these mathematicians had Afros, because to comb an Afro is to pick it straight away from the scalp. If bowling balls had Afros, then yes, they could be combed without violation of mathematical theorems.
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