Thanks, Sideshow Bob!

_______________________________________________Yeah, so, uh, I have awesome hair. That’s right; it’s hair that makes you stare; it’s brush-breaking, elastic-taxing, and even Velcro-catching. It’s kinky on top, curly all around and nappy in the back. It is naturally two-toned in the summer sun. It’s really out of this world I have to say. You just can’t know what it feels like to own it, other than what I tell you about it. Trust me.

There are certain wavy-haired ignorami (single-breed people, mostly) who think they know how it is. They like to give me hair tips, telling me, “Oh! Yeah, I know what you mean about curly hair and humidity. I have the same hair as you.” Yeah? How many fingers am I holding up? “Have you tried using conditioner?” Bitches, have you?

This hair is obviously not just “curly”. It is a self-replicating fractal, a springy mass of wannabe dreads living in sin with electrical wire in a house built by Sideshow Bob.

Of course I use conditioner – it is the ectoplasm that allows this coif to walk the earth plane and haunt your ass. I might let you touch it if you’ll go away, just go away as soon as possible.

They really just drive me wild, those wavy-haireds.

I mean really. My multi-breed ass has to fight the urge to flick a hair band in their eye and barrette their lips shut. The elastic won’t be that ouchless kind, either.

Hmph. Curly…

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