Know someone that is proper committed to greasing up his friar tuck wreath of hair and amassing it on the vast expanse of baldness atop his bonce. Such is the malevolence that it has become known as 'the nest' (because of the perfect placement of the twigs of hair, and the egg therein) to the point where when its pish taking time he'll be referred to as Elliot Nest, or asked about his recent visit to Loch Nest etc...
Can't fight the tide, accept it and move on. Not everyone is blessed with a Sampsonesque mane of hair.