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Welcome to my Haircut Saga. For those of you who were used to me with hair, hold on! Click "Next" below, to advance the story along. Each page has some information in here to make my story more entertaining.

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I needed a hair-cut. It was Friday afternoon, I was kind of tired after a long week at work. So I'm trying to remember how I had my hair cut the last time I went in 'cause I kind-of liked it.

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Well, as I mentioned, it had been a long week and Gene (the man with the shears) calls, 'Next!' And before I know it I'm strapped and bound into The Chair of Chop. I knew he had used a #2 shear before somewhere on my head, but I couldn't remember exactly what he did... Next!

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Intermission : This was my previous hair-cut.. This was short even for me, but the overall consensus was that people liked it. Before I knew it, hair was falling everywhere and then I recalled saying those three evil words, 'Number Two, Please'. Without a moment's delay... Next!

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...Gene finishes the job and spins me around!

Facing the mirror in horror, I shreiked

YYYYYeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaooooooooowwwwwww!!!!!!!!

Well, it wasn't his fault, I mean he DID give me what I asked for!

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So now, feel free to call me G.I. Mike!!

But as the famous Homer Simpson once asked, 'Well, wut r ya gonna do?'

Back to the Top, Thank-you!

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