I’ve got a mop on my head… Well not literally, but my hair has always grown fast and right now, you could flip me upside down and dunk my head into a bucket of Pine Sol if you wanted. I’d suspect I’d do a rather fabulous job on your hardwood floor too!
Back when I used to shave it, my hair seriously took no more than a day and a half to grow enough to be able to buzz with the first attachment on my clippers. Yeah, it’s like the cerebrospinal fluid in my head has a little bit of Miracle Gro mixed in it or something. Many a barber in the past always commented that my hair was the fastest growing they have ever seen which of course made their greedy asses all that much happier. Anyway, since I started growing my hair this past spring, I’ve been trying to get frequent haircuts to keep it from bushing out. I’ve let my hair grow out for about two weeks too long, so a couple of days ago, I scheduled an appointment for tonight at 7:30 with my stylist. I’ve never looked more forward to anything in my life than getting my buzz on earlier tonight. With this heat, this damn bush on my head has been holding heat in like you wouldn’t believe and holy shit the morning bed head is just fucking epic.
Wait, what’s that you say? Oh yes, I used the word stylist up there. You see, I’ve have always called the gents who cut my hair barbers. Apparently hair dressers all over the place got together and staged some form of coup and found the term rather dated. So out of courtesy for those in the ummm, hair arts… I use the term stylist. Got it? Good.
Anyway, I show up to the place and the bastage who cuts my hair went to bloody Chicago! To make matters worse, absolutely no one was available for the rest of the night to buzz my head down. So, I rescheduled my cut for this coming Monday and my freaking head is itching like you wouldn’t believe. 🙁
I swear if there weren’t so many people who would shoot me dead for shaving it back down, I’d have done it already…