I have a history of doing really bad things with scissors.
Every time that I pick up a pair of scissors to cut someone’s hair, I know that I shouldn’t do it, because it always ends up badly. But every time, I convince myself that “this time I can do it! Because, this time, I will be careful and will just cut this ONE LITTLE PIECE.
And every single time, I screw up in a very big way because “I have to even it out!” and an innocent victim is left without sideburns, or with an entire chunk of hair missing in the back of their head, or with a hairless dog peenie.
With a set of
I’ve apologized to her and promised to take her to the little kids salon down the street so that they can fix it and perhaps make the bangs blend in with the rest of her hair and as you can see, she’s trying really hard to force a smile and forgive me.
PigHunter, on the other hand, isn’t being so forgiving about it because every TWO SECONDS he sighs and says “YOU REALLY JACKED HER HAIR UP, BABE.”
I’m not mad at him, though. I realize he’s still traumatized from the Haircut of 1993 in which he had to walk around living his life without any sideburns.