Time for a trim....

No, you dirty bastards, not that kind. I'm talking a hair cut. A hair cut from hell, no less. You know that little voice of yours that sometimes taps you on your shoulder and says, "um excuse me, maybe that wouldn't be a good idea." Yeah, I go all WWF on that voice, slam it down and dape tuct that fucker down, it seems. Yes, I did it. I got the haircut that shouldn't have been. I should have known. The guy cutting it looked like a Rip Torn reject. Same clothes, same way of speaking, same gay sense. It looks as though he only knew how to cut one way. I was desperate though. It was right across the street from my office, I could do it during lunch, and I couldn't take my hair one bit longer. I had grown out my bangs for like 2 years, and it was driving me crazy how I had to show my forehead (not a fivehead, but close) all the time. So I went in and said, "I want my bangs back and a little cut off the top." I said specifically, "I don't wanna look like some butch dike though" Wrong thing to say, I guess, cause that's what it turned out like. You ever seen Joe Dirt? Okay, imagine that cut on me. . You get what you pay for I guess. I got a cut hoping that I could stop putting my hair up in a clip. Guess I'll be putting my hair back in one until this shit grows out.