It has recently come to my attention that old people part their hair...if they have any. Well guess what, old people? I refuse to follow your lead. I tried out the ol' hair part when I was in elementary school. Yeah, I parted my hair down the middle like all the kids on Home Improvement.
But I was no JTT. There was no Tiger Beat issue dedicated to me and my luscious locks. No. The hair part brought me nothing but shame - shame that has been immortalized forever in the form of school photos.
Now, if you saw one of those school photos, you would notice a few things. First, my hair was red. Like red velvet cake. If I had been good with the ladies (more on that in a second), I could have made some suave comments about having red velvet hair. But that might have just sounded creepy....okay, it definitely would have. Scratch that. Second, even though I tried to part my hair down the middle, most of the time I missed and parted it slightly off-center. Third, I had a bowl cut. Damn you, JTT. Fourth, I definitely got an undercut and buzzed the sides of my hair up and under the longer hair. Imagine the horrific bed head I had.
But I was no JTT. There was no Tiger Beat issue dedicated to me and my luscious locks. No. The hair part brought me nothing but shame - shame that has been immortalized forever in the form of school photos.
Now, if you saw one of those school photos, you would notice a few things. First, my hair was red. Like red velvet cake. If I had been good with the ladies (more on that in a second), I could have made some suave comments about having red velvet hair. But that might have just sounded creepy....okay, it definitely would have. Scratch that. Second, even though I tried to part my hair down the middle, most of the time I missed and parted it slightly off-center. Third, I had a bowl cut. Damn you, JTT. Fourth, I definitely got an undercut and buzzed the sides of my hair up and under the longer hair. Imagine the horrific bed head I had.
The effect of this hair monstrosity was a permanent pass to the Friend Zone. Now I was no Don Juan, but the least I could have had was a semi-respectable head of hair. Instead, I had a slightly floppier version of Jim Carrey's hair in Dumb and Dumber. I was cute in a let's-just-not-look-at-the-weird-child-bless-his-heart kind of way. And even then it was only older people that thought that. Kids my age avoided me like I had warts or the herp. The resulting psychological trauma has been immense.
So no, old people, I will not part my hair.
So no, old people, I will not part my hair.
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