For my entire HS life, I had a high and tight. First combed w/ a part, then straight forward. Then, I decided to let it flow and did a modified buttcut, but with short bangs. Imagine the middle part with a paintbrush, but very greasy. After college, I got lazy and found out I have these lucious locks, curly and thick, soon to be thinning on the crown.
Why is it, though, that every time I get my mane trimmed, the chick tries to make me look like an angry lesbian? Tease the front, hair spray, slick the sides down. Did you see what I looked like upon arrival? Not a sapphic princess with a wallet chain!
The worst ever though, was when my Mom took me to the salon at age nine to get a spike…and apparently, a “body wave”, which meant perm in the back. I came home and ran out to join the neighborhood wiffleball game and Brad, the dickhead 15 year old called me a “half a fag.” The next day at school I fought two kids who rightfully taunted my fruity locks. After the activator ran its course, I destroyed all pictures, save my UAW team photo from Y City Little League (champs, FYI). I swore then to leave my birth mother in a nursing home and paint clown makeup on her upon senility to exact my dark revenge. Now excuse me, I have to shave my back.
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