Part Down The Middle

April 21, 2009 at 1:31 AM | Posted in Journal | Leave a comment
  I go to the barber college to get my haircut because I feel, since I don’t have a full head of hair, why should I pay full price?  This is definitely an item that should be pro-rated.
  The GF and others have suggested that since I get it shaved down most of the way anyway, I should get one of those kits and just do it myself.  Well, I have this to say to you:  shut your pie hole. 
  I’ve never been to a hooker, and I’ve never been to a strip club or had a lap dance.  What other chance do I have to have a woman I don’t know put her boobs in my face?
  Of course, going to the barber college is like playing the lottery–it’s more likely that you’ll end up bleeding than getting laid.  I’ve had a wide assortment of people cut my hair at the barber college.  For instance, I’ve had lots of young black men whom I surmise are only doing this until their career in hip-hop takes off.
  I’ve had a few cute chicks, including one woman who was so short that even with me sitting in the chair she needed a stool.  Even so, she was a little tall to be the *perfect* height.
  I’ve had a gay man or two (but not at the same time; there was no manwich going on) and some other assorted oddballs, but this last time was the first time I believe I had someone who was legitimately mentally challenged.
  Now, I’m not going to make fun of the retard; for the most part he did a good job.  We didn’t talk much, which was fine with me.  He did mumble to himself a lot, in his strange language–whatever the native tongue of Retardia is.  He cut my hair, he shaved my ears, and then he trimmed my eyebrows.  He shaved the top of my nose (Exactly!  That’s what I was thinking!  What the Hell!) and then I swear he tried to stick the trimmer up nose.
  While he was trying to layer my nose hair, I bucked and brayed and moved my head away.  His fingers smelled like corn chips and boogers.

  I am totally due for a hot chick next time.

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