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Posts Tagged ‘Hair’

While perusing through some of the rants on this weblog, some of you may have been wondering – what the heck is wrong with the guys that write for this blog. One place you may have started to look is our History page, but there you only found answers to the history of Ranty McRanterson, and two stupid videos that say little [or, maybe a lot] about who we are.

This post will give you a glimpse into the childhood of just 1/2 of Ranty, but I hope that it provides some answers for you in your search for meaning and ‘Why, God, why?’

Haircut at a Young Age – The Modified Bowl Cut

bowl cut
I couldn’t link to a real picture of me, Lego’s shall suffice

In middle school, I, like many others at that time, conformed to the growing popular hair style – the bowl cut. I vividly remember walking into the local barbershop, and proclaiming:

“Make me look like Leonardo DiCaprio.”

My hair happens to be very thin, so I was unable to achieve the full, tousled look of most bowl cuts, so I simply parted my hair in the middle — and thought I was ‘it.’ I couldn’t wait to go to the next middle school dance, sporting the ‘wet’ look, a silver chain necklace, and a Guess shirt that showed off my tight body. Looking back, I couldn’t have been more wrong about the totality of those circumstances.

leonardo dicaprio
I was so close

Well, I did kind of was right about the Leonardo DiCaprio thing – in the prepubescent-bodied, smug-faced, wet-look-gelled-hair kind of way – but aside from that, I was way off.

Room Decor Until an Embarrassingly Old Age – The Care Bears Lamp

care bears lamp
I Love Lamp.

Yeah, I had a Care Bears lamp in my room until middle school, at which point I finally realized that I was too old for such childish things. It was just a lamp, it provided ample light and a warm glow to read Goosebumps books, it was a good lamp.

I was sad to see it go. I just put it in my brother’s room, where it currently adorns his nightstand. He’s going to kill me for putting this up here, but he likes it more than I did, and he’s 19. He also has an unhealthy obsession with A.C. Slater. Unlike his Facebook wall, he can’t censor this blog. Ha ha, sucker.

Sound Investments at a Young Age – Trading Money with my Brother

coins

He he…I win.

This one isn’t embarrassing at all – when my brother and I were just old enough to have our very own disposable income [allowance], I used to trade him shiny pennies for those big, dull quarters. Pennies were easier to swallow, and they were shiny, who wouldn’t want them more than a big dumb quarter? Apparently I’ve been effectively honing my persuasive voice since a very young age.

Traffic Lights Are Not Controlled by my Dad

traffic light
These lights actually are controlled by garage door openers

I still can’t believe I fell for this one. No matter how dumb I’ve made my brother seem up until this point, this one takes the cake for me being the idiot of the family. On trips over to my grandparents in Harleysville, we would always sit at the intersection of 113 and Cowpath Road. We’d stop and wait for the light to turn Green, and my dad, without fail, would get out the garage door opener and tell me that he was going to change the light by pressing the button.

I had a déjà vu experience sitting at that very light in high school, and man, did I feel special.

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The Haircut

I went to get my hairs cut today, and it was quite an experience, let me tell you (and I will, since this is my post).

The local Costcutters ($13.95 for a “style” cut) is right down the road. I walk in, and I’m greeted by an elderly receptionist, and she asks me what I’d like done. It’s so good that they let people over 60 work.

To my surprise, the woman instructs me to come to the back, because she’s ready to cut my hair. At this point I noticed a resemblance to someone from somewhere, I’m running scenarios through my head of where I know this woman from — is this someone’s grandmother…does she have a great granddaughter that I know…is she from an AARP brochure that was mailed to my apartment for a previous tenant…

Anyway, she starts with the cut. I instruct her as plainly as I can what I need done. “One on the sides, scissors at finger-length on the top, blend it in the middle, and box it in the back.” It’s an easy cut. Let’s put it this way – freshman year, girls that have never cut hair before cut my hair and it was fine. I would assume that at Costcutters, the “stylists” are put through some sort of intensive training program.

symmetry in action

A course in geometry apparently is not involved in this training program, given the result of my hair cut.

If any Costcutters stylists view this, please observe the above image, and note how each of these shapes can be cut exactly in half, and both of their sides are exactly the same! It’s called symmetry, and most people learn it when they’re three by folding a piece of paper in half.

Anyway, substantial modifications were necessary upon my return home, and when I’m paying $13.95 plus a tip, I shouldn’t have to modify anything.

My stylist is trying to strike up conversation, and striking out on every proposed topic.

So, how was your day?

Good.

Man, that rain is bad out there, is there a lot of traffic?

Yes, it is bad, and yes, there is a lot of traffic, which is typical for 5:00 pm on a Friday.

What do you do?

Study and go to school.

I went to school once. One time I failed algebra, and I had to beg my teacher to pass me.

[No response………long, awkward pause]

So, who are you going to vote for for President? I haven’t been following it much, but I like Obama, he seems like a nice fellow.

At this point, I realize who she is. It’s the mom from Requiem for a Dream. You know, the one who gets addicted to pills.

stylist

Yup, that’s her. I can’t believe it. This woman is wearing too much makeup, has a bad dye-job, has a nervous tick. No wonder she can’t cut hair.

Lady, I don’t know who I’m going to vote for.

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Samson: The Sequel

     For those of you that don’t know, for most of every year I have a ton of hair. This includes sideburns and a goatee in addition to the hair atop my head. It really pisses me off when people make comments about my appearance. They like to comment on how long my ‘hair’ is. First of all, its not hair, its a mane. Yeah, that’s right, like a lion. But it’s no regular mane. It’s The Mane of Infinite Justice. When utilized with The Sideburns of Indomitable Spirit and The Goatee of Righteousness it makes me the most powerful human on the face of the planet.

A relaxing day at the office.

     During the day, I am mild mannered Clint Gilo. By night I go by my alter ego: The Lion. With my superpowers, I fight the forces of injustice in a three-block radius. It’s true. I have this neighborhood on lockdown. Nothing goes down without me knowing. Last week some teenagers were out past curfew on Summit Street. Yeah, I took care of that.

     Mostly I use my powers for good. However, like any superhero, the temptation to use my powers to harm is sometimes hard to resist. So take some advice: Shut the fuck up about my hair.

Listen: Fall Out Boy, “I’ve Got a Dark Alley and a Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Song)”
Quote I: “Get that freakin’ kid out of my yard.” – My across the street neighbor referring to a certain someone who passed out against a tree in his backyard.
Quote II: “Take me back to my fucking tree!” – Andrew Storer

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