Hair today, gone tomorrow.

I hate having my hair cut. It's stupid and pointless.
And we're supposed to be 'The gender which gets haircuts recreationally.'
Snickerdoodle. Disproving female stereotypes since '94.

There is such a fine line between 'bad-ass haircut' and 'bad haircut that makes you look like an ass'.
How and why most people usually seem to make it to the former category, and I inevitably get stuck in the latter almost every time, is doomed to forever remain one of the greatest unsolved mysteries of the universe.

When I went to get my hair cut yesterday, what I expected was roughly two inches shorter, slightly more manageable hair.

So imagine my shock and horror when my arch nemesis, The Hairstylist, eventually chopped my hair down to less than half its original length.
I couldn't say a word. I just sat in the chair, looking petrified at the mirror, while the wicked harpy hovered around me, snip-snip-snipping all my hair off. I couldn't scream, or cry, or anything. I just endured the injustice.
Quick. Somebody hand me a medal.

I realize how Samson must've felt.

My mum loves the haircut.
My brother says I look like a Resident Evil zombie.
My dad says to go study.

I look like a dude.
A fat boy. With curly hair.
And tits severe physical abnormalities.
Goddammit.
I CAN'T LIVE LIKE THIS OMG ASDFGHJKL; ;_;