Hair chronicles VII

Well, it's over. My long hair's gone at last! Unfortunately however it didn't happen quite how I'd imagined. When the time came to cut my hair short, I'd planned to go out in a blaze of glory, possibly with a temporary mullet and some hilarity. But my time came too soon when, trying to save a bit of money, I took my hair to the local Supercuts to get it tidied up. First mistake! The polish woman who cut my hair was truly one demonic wench. When Satan needs a haircut, chances are he summons this bitch. "Do you want to keep it the same style it was before?" she asked. "Yes" I replied. In hindsight, I probably should have told her what that was. By the time I cottoned on to what she was doing it was too late, and I walked away from Gloucester Road looking especially goofy.

Me and 'the do mark II' really didn't get on at first. My old hair and I were like peas in a pod. We laughed, we cried; they were good times. Now who was this imposter on my head? So smart and boring, it felt like we'd forever be enemies. But Christmas came and went, and he grew on me. Then I got a rather fetching brown jumper for Christmas. "This would go great with my new hair" I didn't say. Nevertheless, it did go, and now the hair and myself get on very well indeed!

So, my irresponsible scruffy youth is over. My long hair phase has come and gone, and now it's time to grow up! Oh, and find a new hairdressers...