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Well, That’s an Interesting Look

I got my hair cut last night. I like 75% of the cut. 75% of it looks the way I suspected it would when I made the decision to get my hair cut. But there’s about 25% of the cut that makes me want to scream and harm the she-devil who was wielding the scissors.

What the … was she thinking when she cut the bangs?

I told her to take an inch to an inch and a half off the length. It was getting long. But there was an implication, based on earlier conversation, that she just needed to fix the bangs. I am suddenly concerned that she thought “If I have to take an inch of the back, I probably have to take an inch off the front too.

It looks stupid, I know it does. You don’t have to spare my feelings. Well, okay, spare them a little. But really, did she look at the rest of my hair, which was cut first, and say “now to complete the look, we go with the bangs of the lead singer from Mister Mister circa 1985, or Rosie O’Donnell when she quit her TV show and went for the Hitler look.”