My Barber Is Back
For those of you who missed it, my barber moved away. But now my barber is back, you guys. My barber is back, and what better way to celebrate then to get a hair cut I can’t afford, in a style that probably won’t look good on me? I can’t tell you how happy I was to find out that my barber had returned. It was a day like any other, except for right after I jerked off, I immediately got an email from the barber’s shop saying that he was back from London for good. I’ve never jerked off and then received great news before, especially by email, but let me tell you, it’s a great feeling. I think it’s because we’re conditioned to jerk off and then expect divine punishment, so while it was surprising that I didn’t get struck by lightning, it was even more surprising to get some truly amazing news with impeccable timing.
So now to celebrate. This really has me shook because I know I’m being owned before I even set foot in the door. I’m a haircut sheeple! Why can’t I just get a bowl cut like the rest of blogging America and be fine with it? Why do I pay so much to not look good? Why can’t I just settle on average? Is it because I think a good haircut will fix everything that’s broken about me? Probably. Is it because I think my barber is the coolest person in the world and I want him to admit that we’re friends? Definitely.
That’s a little bit of an exaggeration because there’s no way we’re friends yet. I’ve gone to him enough times for him to recognize me when I come in, but not enough for him to ask me to be godfather of his child. But hey, I guess I’ll just throw money at him until that happens!
