Rough Rhymes

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Prior to contrary believe, not all men dislike haircuts. I love haircuts. My mum knows damn sure that when I come out of the barber's shop, she'll definitely have to speak with me in private. She always prepares for a big heart attack when I say "Ma, I need $10. Wanna cut hair leh!" The only time my mum feels left out in 'bitching sessions' with my aunts is when they complain on how my cousins don't go for a haircut. Not knowing that, here, my mum is wishing my hair will not grow. Recently, not that long ago, I went for a haircut. The latest haircut is a Mohawk. (Yes yes, I is a lil' outdated) And I was looking back at my younger days. Everyone who knew me knew I was always up to something funky. And yea, I've lived up to it. It was always something different each time. Sad to say, the most fanciest of hairstyles I've adorned, I've not taken a snap of. Darn it! If you were from my secondary school, you'd know what an ovation my hair received. If you have, or know any in possession of my graduation night photos, please put me through to them. Much appreciated. Meanwhile, I'll just put up the ones which have.

It started off like this. The bloke who was in his lower secondary school days. Thinking back at it, I really don't understand how it didn't occur to me that having a baby face which doesn't compliment the piercing only makes you look more ape than human. Tsk tsk. (And don't even think for a second that I don't know you're poking fun at my ears. Rascals! )

And like it always is in your secondary school days, the 'I think I'm so cool' paraiah in you that unleashes itself. Mine came in the form of barb wires on my head.

Ever heard a student say "Ma, I finished my O' levels already. I gonna cut my hair short now kay?" Cannot be one rite? It's a trend to nicely fuck up your hair at some stage of your life. Mine came then. Having finished my O's, the Michael Jackson in me had to rip its way out at the expense of my hair. Don't blame me. It's just a small false hope that someone'll sleep with me translating long hair to longer *aherm* And this is the point in time when people called me 'Kudumi Jackson'.

No no, I wasn't scratched by dogs at the side. This is the result of two things. One is not having enough money. And two, the lack of will power. See, a long hair is like a girlfriend. How could you possibly have the heart to part when you think back at all those times you used to dig your ear with your hair rather than your fingers? All those bright pink hairbands you bought for it. All those pokemon rubberbands you used to tie your hair with. All those Pantene shampoo you used to steal from Guardian just to soak your hair in. So what actually happened is, I wanted to cut short BUT I changed my mind halfway. Don't try this at home coz 'Results Could Be Spastic'.

This, I need to explain. The reason why I cut my hair, is to avoid complications. In most households, whenever there is a long strand of hair on the floor or magically in the food, it's always the women who're blamed for. In my house, whenever there is a long strand of hair misplaced, a call will go straight to my dad. And that too, is to complain about my hair being in places it shouldn't actually be at.

Last, but not least, the evolution from ape to human and then from human to ape has been fully made a reality. The latest 'injured' Mohawk. Adios.

Labels: Hairstyles

Praba - 5:24 PM 0 comment(s)

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