Super Fuck-Ups

Sorry for the huuuuge delay in entries, I know how my adoring fan base can't continue existence without my brilliant stories. Yes, I am egomaniacal and I never plan on changing.

Anyway, this story is dedicated to the wonderful people at Supercuts. Oh, wait, did I say wonderful? I meant to say totally fucking stupid niggers who, even with a diploma from their "Academy for Cutting Hair Like Shit", can't seem to give a decent haircut, no where, no how. It just gets my juices flowing whenever I get a shitastic haircut from a place I pay fucking fourteen dollars to go. If I was expecting to get a piss poor cut at discounted prices, I would have gone to the Mod Hatter in the mall and gotten something from either the geriatrics that work there or the Latina whores.

I will actually get into my story now, since, I have already blown enough steam to power a fucking diesel engine going cross country. So, as I was saying, I get into this place and they take my name and I sit, expecting a thirty minute wait. As I'm sitting, some lady and her kid are sitting next to me discussing how he didn't do his homework and how he watched television all day. My parents and grandparents forced me to do homework right after school and look at me now, I'm still a major screw up in school. This kid was headed to being a fucked up middle-schooler experimenting with LSD or whatnot. I know I'm being a tad overzealous on my analysis, but kids nowadays are fucktards, so sue me. Anyway, I'm beginning to laugh, not only at his mother's extreme lack of discipline over her child, but the comments he's throwing back at her. At one time he mentions Cartoon Network and I immediately think of Adult Swim. I begin to laugh and she notices, looks over at me and the first words out of my mouth are "Cartoon Network ALL THE WAY!!!" Yea, this just solidifies that I'm a complete geek with no chance in Hell of ever getting a girlfriend....ever. After this, I talk to the mother a bit, rehash thoughts of my childhood, tell her how fucked up the teachers were with homework and how he seems to have it a little easier [don't ask why, I just felt that way at the time] and how it only gets worse. I could tell by her eyes she seemed....disappointed in the fact that her child was going to be challenged in the future. Oh well, if you have stupid children, you reap what you fucking sow.

Eventually, my name was called and a sigh of relief swept over me, for I felt I was in the clear. I couldn't have been more fucking wrong. I was in for some major torture, as it may seem, because the woman cutting my hair was as dense as a six-foot thick wall of mortar. I begin our encounter like so...

Me "I would like you to cut my sideburns a little shorter and blend them into my hair as it is now. [Lifts up hair covering half of sideburns] I have bald spots right here, [I'm blonde, so I have them] and I need you to blend them well enough not to show them."
StupidHaircuttingBitch "Oh, I remember you. We did this to you a while back." [And they did a damn better job then too]
Me "Also, the back is a little long. Can you cut off like one-third of an inch so it doesn't look all mullet-y, that way I can keep the flip. Oh, and one more thing, the top is a little long, can you clean it up, not cut it, but clean it up?"
StupidHaircuttingBitch "Sure."

She starts off by going after my sideburns. All seems well at first, but all she did was make them not stick out so much, she didn't even fucking try to blend. Then, after like two seconds of work there, she goes after the back of my hair. I'm already in "What the Fuck" land and am hoping that this was going to, in some way, fit in with the scheme of my sideburns. I watch in horror as she surpasses the one-third margin I had given her not two minutes ago and start ruining my hairs beautiful shit; yes, I said beautiful. So, I'm already at a massive loss for words and my hair is taking damage like a nub in Counter-Strike. There is a sudden shift in the woman's movement, she moves from the back of my head, straight up to the front. Now, remember how I asked her to "clean up the front, but not cut," well that thought was shot to Fucktown. As I watch her grab my hair, I almost immediately knew what was in store. She grabs my hair, not a casual quarter inch just for clean up, but she grabs the massive half fucking inch. My hair was at my fucking eyes when she started, it was soon relocated to my forehead. Jesus Christ Almighty, what the fuck did I do to deserve this?

My night was officially ruined there, I had gone in, expecting a casual clean-up and blend job, but by the time she was cutting my bangs, it became much more horrid. So, as my hair is cut to forehead length, I notice her start cutting the top of my head as well. I thought she was taking an awful lot off...just to blend. Damn. This made me ten different kinds of sad. I thought the worst was over, but to my dismay, I was wrong.

StupidHaircuttingBitch "So, does that look good to you?" [As she flips my hair a bit to let it settle]
Me "Uhhhhhhhh..." [Points] "This side is a little longer than that side..."
StupidHaircuttingBitch "Oh! That's because you have a cowlick, let me fix that."

Let me get this fucking straight, it's because i have a COWLICK?! How does that even EXCUSE the fact that one side of my face had hair a half inch longer than the other side, yet you thought it looked good? And the fact that she blamed it on the cowlick...I have one on both sides, she cut one side already....your argument has been deemed "invalid" by the idiot police. Good day.

If there as such a time to slap your forehead because of extreme stupidity, now would be the time.

After correcting her obvious mistake, she was STILL not done. Apparently, she wanted to finish the job in the back, as if she hadn't already pissed me off enough that night... She grabs the clippers and starts like gently "brushing" the back so that my hair "wouldn't flip anymore." GAHHHH!! What the fuck, bitch?! DIDN'T I JUST TELL YOU TEN MINUTES PRIOR THAT I LIKED THE FLIP?!!?! GAHMOTHERFUCKERIWANTTOCHOKEYOU!!!! *Sigh* I was done. Emotionally drained and thoroughly pissed off, I had given up any hope of having a decent cut.

This story has already gone long enough, and you know what, it's still not over. After she does her shit to the back of my head, she starts aiming for the sideburns. NOOOOOOOOO!!!!! So she starts cutting, and I notice she's cutting awfully crooked, but don't bother thinking of it anymore cause my hair already looked fucked up. She then brushes me off with her horsehair thing and sends me on my way. I say "thank you" and tip her, being the polite bastard that I am, and go on my way home. I keep looking in my rear-view mirror because something is totally amiss in the whole scheme of things, but I can't put my finger on it. When I arrive home, this conversation drops:

Me "Mom, I'm back from my haircut..."
MotherDear "Let me see."
Me "It looks shitty, but okay..." [Takes off hat]
MotherDear "Yea, I don't like your haircut..."

That's her way of telling me that it looks like shit...

I go into my bathroom and take a shower, the hair that's all over me is getting on my nerves. After I get out of the shower, I look in the mirror and am totally fucking horrified. My sideburns, that I thought were barely touched by that whore at Supercuts, were terribly misshapen and were cut at weird angles. On the left side, the blending is fine, but she like layered my sideburn to have two different like "thicknesses," thin and normal....God.... On the right side, the blending is cut at an angle so you can see the bald spot... in fact, there is no blending, she just plain fucked up. In fact, she did such a horrible job, I had to shave some of my sideburns off for them to look somewhat normal again....

For now on, I'm going to my mom's beautician or some shit. They get paid well and they know better than to fuck up my hair....or I'll go super-nazi on their ass....GRRRRR...



Conversation of the Day:
Me "Hello sir, how're you guys doing today?"
Customer "Good- [As he's handing me the Alexander tickets] YOU HAVE OCEAN'S TWELVE?! FUCK THAT!!!"
Me "You can refund your tickets up there sir..." [Points to box office]