by Terd Macchio
I met two beauticians at a bar who wanted to cut my shaggy locks off. I wasn’t drunk. She wasn’t either. Other she was.
I let them shear it off bits at a time in my kitchen, becoming surrounded by my brown hair spread out dead on my white, tiled floor. They cut my ears off with the hair and even though I couldn’t hear anymore, I wasn’t that mad. I looked good. I mean it, for the first time in my life, I looked good with short hair.
Still, I didn’t even get laid. You give two girls your hair and an ear each and you’d think one of them would fuck you.
Or give you a BJ.
HJs are useless.
Terd Macchio never apologizes, so don't even ask.