Bad haircuts
November 6th 2006 06:12
I decided to answer an important question today, in an attempt to gain a deeper knowledge of myself – of my limitations and failings, my abilities and boundaries. That question was, “Can I cut my own hair?”
The answer turned out to be “no”, but still, I feel as though I have learned a valuable lesson. I suppose I overestimated myself based on the fact that the first Space Monkey on Fight Club did it with ease – just ran the electric razor over his head, one-two, easy as that. This turned out to be another case of Hollywood fudging the facts.
In any case, my hair was too long and I did not have any money to go to a barber. I DID have about twenty dollars to last me until Friday, but I spent most of it on a loaf of bread and a sixpack. So I may look terrible, but at least I have 2 of the main food groups covered for several days.
Right from the outset, I realised that if I attempted to shave my own head the absolute worst-case scenario was that I would look like an escaped convict who has undergone a cataclysmic frontal lobotomy, his head shaved brutally and unevenly by the sadistic surgeons of a state mental facility. I expect this look to fade gradually over the course of a week or two, which is more than enough time for me to lose my job, but that's life I suppose.
Besides, there's something liberating about strolling down the street with an undeniably bad haircut. Even if you want to get uptight and embarrassed about it, there is absolutely not a goddamn thing in the world you can do about it. An experience like that helps to put the small things into perspective, keep your ego in check. It is also not as demeaning as you may think to be looked down upon by beefy football-types with pink shirts and patches of bleach scattered throughout their fashionable mullet haircut. The irony appeals to me. After all, they PAID someone to make them look stupid. So really, who's the bigger moron?
All in all, it was worth it. After all, I got a blog out of it, didn't I? And whether I wanted to or not, I also got a terrifying glimpse of myself in 10 years time. My topless body was covered in a heavy garnish of wiry, short black hairs, stuck to my skin with sticky hair-gel residue. There's another lesson for me, right there – do not spend my life waiting for Calvin Klein to call with a lucrative modelling contract.
The answer turned out to be “no”, but still, I feel as though I have learned a valuable lesson. I suppose I overestimated myself based on the fact that the first Space Monkey on Fight Club did it with ease – just ran the electric razor over his head, one-two, easy as that. This turned out to be another case of Hollywood fudging the facts.
In any case, my hair was too long and I did not have any money to go to a barber. I DID have about twenty dollars to last me until Friday, but I spent most of it on a loaf of bread and a sixpack. So I may look terrible, but at least I have 2 of the main food groups covered for several days.
Right from the outset, I realised that if I attempted to shave my own head the absolute worst-case scenario was that I would look like an escaped convict who has undergone a cataclysmic frontal lobotomy, his head shaved brutally and unevenly by the sadistic surgeons of a state mental facility. I expect this look to fade gradually over the course of a week or two, which is more than enough time for me to lose my job, but that's life I suppose.
Besides, there's something liberating about strolling down the street with an undeniably bad haircut. Even if you want to get uptight and embarrassed about it, there is absolutely not a goddamn thing in the world you can do about it. An experience like that helps to put the small things into perspective, keep your ego in check. It is also not as demeaning as you may think to be looked down upon by beefy football-types with pink shirts and patches of bleach scattered throughout their fashionable mullet haircut. The irony appeals to me. After all, they PAID someone to make them look stupid. So really, who's the bigger moron?
All in all, it was worth it. After all, I got a blog out of it, didn't I? And whether I wanted to or not, I also got a terrifying glimpse of myself in 10 years time. My topless body was covered in a heavy garnish of wiry, short black hairs, stuck to my skin with sticky hair-gel residue. There's another lesson for me, right there – do not spend my life waiting for Calvin Klein to call with a lucrative modelling contract.
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Comment by Little Angry Doll
Falling Haiku Leaf
Comment by J-Dogg
Comment by Always Eighteen
Always Eighteen
I once tried to trim a few strands of hair off my head and ended up screwing it up.
Comment by Deorre
Stress Alive
Man Lessons