Why do so many people who instinctively go against the grain also have iPhones? You know, the folks who don’t own a television, or like to pontificate about how the Beatles are overrated? Those types. Many of them carry the world’s trendiest item around – with pride. It’s amazing.
You’ve got to hand it to Apple. They create products that excite the herd, while somehow maintaining an outside-the-mainstream vibe. Few things are more mainstream than an iPhone in 2012, yet all the cool kids will be lining up for the privilege of paying big bucks for the newest version in a few days. It’s bizarre: like horn rim-hipsters getting excited by a Billy Joel tour. Once something is embraced in the suburbs, its coolness factor usually plummets. Not so, the iPhone; for some reason it gets a pass.
I worked in the yard yesterday, and it looks a thousand times better. I have a giant blister on the inside of my right thumb, and my back hurts – just north of the great divide. But I think I might have experienced the satisfaction of a job well-done. I’m not overly familiar with such things, so I could be wrong. But I’m almost certain.
However… I still hated it, and said the word “fuck” roughly 500 times. Just to be clear on the matter.
After I post this update I’m going to get a Wal-Mart haircut. I’ve had them before, but it’s been many years. I can’t remember them being too bad. Plus, who gives a crap? George Clooney, I ain’t. Toney gave me a coupon for $7.99, and I’m going to put that bad boy to use.
What was the worst haircut you’ve ever had? When I first moved here I went to a cigar store/barber shop – I’m not kidding – and left the place looking like a cancer victim. The chair was sitting in the middle of a tiny smoke shop, and the barber was about 90 years old and stinking of gasoline. He broke out some ancient clippers from a Charlie Chaplin movie, which started cutting in and out and throwing sparks. Gasoline… sparks… it was excruciating.
He was a nice old guy, but I had patches of exposed scalp and a couple of Mohawks, neither of which were running from front to back. It was awful, and also bizarre. He kept stopping, so he could ring up a cigar customer. The place is still in business, but I don’t know about the barbering side of things. For some reason I never returned.
Shit! It’s a wonder there weren’t collection jars around town, with my picture on them.
I also got a haircut at a local barber shop one time, and the guy talked, non-stop, about how Mexicans and blacks are ruining the country. He didn’t know me, I’d never set foot in the place before, yet went on and on. I never went back there, either. Klansman Kuts isn’t really what I’m looking for.
If you’ve had any especially bad haircut experiences, please tell us about them. Use the comments link below.
And I was going to go on a tirade about Good Morning America now, and how EVERY PERSON on that show is annoying. But I’m struggling, my friends. The words aren’t exactly flowing today.
So, I’m just going to stop right here and go get my discount haircut. After they shave my neck, maybe I’ll also buy some cornbread mix, socks, snow tires, a fishing pole, LASIK eye surgery, deodorant, a Steppenwolf CD, a sack of goldfish, a fern, life insurance, and a Caribbean cruise. But, we’ll have to play it by ear.
Oh, one more thing… the neighbors put this out with their trash today. WTF? I think it might be flesh and blood.
See you guys next time.
Have a great weekend!
Now playing in the bunker
Treat yourself: “How to Avoid Huge Ships“
That trash is disturbing.
Did everything go OK with that meeting you mentioned?
Yes, so far so good. Every day is an adventure, though.
That trash looks like a fossilized turd hybrid of Bush and Romney. Would you look at the rest rings on that bad boy?! That had to hurt.
Your neibors give head?!?!
Looks like a real nice halloween decoration, I’d snatch that fucker up before one of the other neighbors gets it.
No bad hair cuts, pretty tough to mess up the 3/2 buzzcut.
Had a bad experience with an asian barber a few years ago. The place I went to regularly had two barbers that I actually would let cut my hair, but were both off that day. I desperately needed the shrub trimmed, so I reluctantly let Kim Fong give’r a try. I ended up with one side cut fairly neat and normal. But when I looked at the other side with the mirror she handed me, it looked like my ear had white walls, the hair had been cut above my ear so high. I screamed something to the effect that she’d never touch my scalp again and she yelled something back in Korean/Vietnamese that didn’t sound like “sport” either.
When you said shrub, I was pretty sure you were talking about your, uh, midsection. But then you mentioned ears so I stopped giggling to myself.
in the old days , when i still had hair, and enjoyed adult beverages, my house would be the hangout for redneck sawmill coworkers
after few hours the clippers would come out
everyone got intresting haircut
Redneck dudes like to get drunk and do each other’s hair? Learn somethin’ new ever’ day around here.
now that you put it that way..
testing, testing hello hello
I still use the $0.99 with two year contract phone I got 5 years ago. It still makes and receives calls. I do own a TV though, and a matter transporter.
I’ll have to look into this ”satisfaction of a job well-done” thing. I’ve not experienced that, is it like finding the G-Spot? You say you did it to sound cool but it doesn’t really exist and no one cares if it does.
My wife once convinced me to go to her hair dresser. Other than her being a “hair dresser” and having to go to a salon, my first clue is when there was a maitre-d there. Asking me for appointment confirmations and stylist names and all manner of shit that has nothing to do with making my hair shorter. I was greeted by some asshole in the waiting are and she asked me if I wanted anything to drink. Fuck no bitch. I want my hair cut.
When I finally got in the hair cutting chair (it was not a barber chair because she wasn’t a barber) the real trouble started. She had a cast on her scissor hand, which bothered me, but not too much since I old barber was def, blind and had a fake leg.
She asked me how I wanted my hair cut. I told I would like just a normal hair cut. She didn’t know what that meant. If you cut hair and don’t know what “normal haircut” is, you suck at your job. For those of you not yet initiated into this, a “normal haircut” is a haircut that makes your head look exactly the same as it does before the hair cut, just with shorter hair.
The lady in pink then went on to tell the empty space 3 inches in front of my face that she can do a lot with my hair. She could shape it to better frame my face, she could accent my hairline, she could thin it, add body, swirl it and jerk it off. None of this I wanted.
“No,” I replied to each recommendation, “Just trim it up a little bit. I part it like how you see here on my head.”
She began.
Once complete she showed me my head. Every hair on my head was the same length. All about half an inch and sticking straight off of my scalp I looked like an electrified and fluffed out. I paid my $65 and continue to refuse to get my hair cut by anything like that again.
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Good Morning America come on at 7 a.m. here. I’ve been at work for half an hour by then. Good morning my ass, more like Happy Midday Arizona.
Q-tip.
The word i’m looking for is Q-tip.
I looked like an electrified and fluffed out Q-tip.
Ehh, the wal-wart hairdressers can be hit or miss,
A friend of mine told me about this place about a mile from there, https://plus.google.com/115954149598170032050/about?gl=us&hl=en
The guy is laid back and good at what he does. Its definitely a barber shop, the chairs are real barber chairs, and he isn’t afraid to break out the straight razor if you want a shave. plus he runs coupons for six buck haircuts in the local free weekend paper…
I went to that place for cigars but never haircuts. I did go to that other guy for a few years. I always admired his combover. Oh, and his rants….
I went to the same goddamn barber for 20 years. He finally died of old age in February. Then I had to go on the hunt for a new hair cutter. I had to go to Wal Mart at one point because I looked like a walking chrysanthemum. She messed it all up. I finally found another angry old man to cut my hair and I’m staying with him until he dies. After that, I’m fucked.
The new iPhone 5 is going to revolutionize the way I ignore everyone’s stupid ass phone calls.
My neighbor has been putting a disturbing number of dead cats on the curb. I know it’s dead cats because he lays the corpses on a piece of cardboard. I’ve seen no less than five so far this month. I have no idea what he’s doing with so many cats, or how so many of them are ending up dead.
I would call Animal Control – the old coot sounds like a hoarder. That’s pretty goddamn disturbing.
As to the item left for trash pickup by your neighbors, how did the tip of my dick get to NE PA?
The hair dresser was married to a guy whose brother was dating my best friend. She hated my friend. She was the only one available, and was really pleasant to me. But, she turned me away from the mirror because I was talking to someone sitting behind me. I thought she was just being nice. I had thick shoulder length hair when I went in and told her that I wanted something a little shorter and cooler for the summer. When she turned me back to the mirror, there wasn’t a hair on my head longer than one inch. I was on my lunch break and had to go back to work looking like a totally different person. My boyfriend couldn’t stand the way it looked, dumped me that same evening. It took about 8 months for it to grow back in. Still hate that bitch.
Yeah….try going into a piercing place at the mall (don’t ask!) …and having the with the rivet gun with a needle it it ask, “Why didn’t you call me?” Ouch!
I did not recognize her, but she was a one night stand I picked up cruising in my crappy Corvette. She knew the area far better than I did, and we eneded up doing it at Jimmie Hendrix’s grave site in Renton, WA. Absolutely true story! Seriously, with my West Coast crowd intermingled with Jeff’s West Virginians, we could rule the world through hijinx.
I got a haircut once. I think it was around 1980. Well, that was the last one anyway. I spent 4 years in the army in younger life, so I had to get pretty regular cuts then. I actually got kicked out of school in 1969 because my hair was too long, so this whole long hair thing isn’t exactly just some passing fad.And I haven’t shaved since 1977, so themiddle of the bib overalls beard fits right in with the hair. You might say I look like a leftover from a 70’s Dead concert. Or a homeless streetcorner sign-holder. But I’m happy with the look, and the wife has never known anything else from me. How many of those youngsters out there are going to have saucers in their earlobes and a mohawk at 57? And I had my last phone till it was two years out of contract, then it finally broke in half. Now I have one of those Casio flip phones you can dunk in a bucket of water and still make a call. Never, ever saw the need for an i-phone.
My sister is a hair stylist and has cut my hair most of the time for the last 20 years. I have had to go to other people occasionally, but have never really found someone I like. They all have done a pretty good job, but it’s just not the same.
I took my 4 year old son to the local beauty school for a hair cut recently. I didn’t think “#3” on the clippers would be so confusing. My first clue should have been the amount of time it took her to figure out how to hold the clippers correctly and then how to turn them on. It took her over 30 minutes. It looked like he had done it himself by the time she was done.
I will now stick with Sport Clips for him and their $8 kid haircut (with coupon). My husband goes to the same place. They have the exact same haircut: 4 on top with a 3 around the sides. Pretty simple.
You do realize that taking your kid to a beauty school for a haircut is like taking him to Josef Mengele for medical care.
My neighbor once put out a white ceramic elephant with the trash. I wondered why anyone would buy such a thing, and why, once bought, they would toss it. Bizarre. I’ll be putting out a charcoal grill next Garbage Day, so if anyone wants it, feel free.
My most recent haircut was around 1994. I think it was at Hair Cuttery and cost $10, which was a princely sum in those days. My worst haircut(s) came, of course, from my mom when I was a wee sprat. After reaching a certain age, we boys were sent around the corner to the elderly, chain-smoking Sicilian barber on Court Street.
Phones: I have never had a personal cell phone, just whatever the company issued me. It’s currently a Motorola Razr non-Max, which I don’t like very much. If I had to get my own, I wouldn’t know where to begin.
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I go to a fifties style shop and like it. Worst haircut was when I used to shave my head.
Back in the 90’s I went with the shaved head and goatee thing – yes, I was that guy. To get my #1 shave, I always went to the same guy on Whyte ave. Well, the 90’s ended and I moved to small town, only visiting Edmonton on weekends, and I started letting my hair grow longer and cut less – and judging by the number of “wow, you look so much better now” I got, I should have done this a long time ago. Since I wasn’t in the city that often, I found a great gal to cut it in the small town I was teaching in. Well, she went and got pregnant and stopped cutting hair for a spell, so while in the city – after not stepping into his shop for at least a decade – I returned to my 90’s guy. I carefully explained that I wanted just a bit off and to keep it long. He started cutting and then was touching things up with the electric clippers when he said, “My friend, I don’t recognize your face, but I recognize your hair. You’re a man who likes it short.” He then skimmed the razor straight up the back and 5 pounds of hair hit the floor. I didn’t say anything….you can’t uncut hair. Took two months to grow out.
I just got the Samsung Galaxy S3. I like it so far. Much easier to figure out than that suck ass Blackberry. The only problem with it is that the battery life is only about 4 hours long. I have to have a charger with me at work, home, and car just in case. That is a huge pain in the butt. Oh…and I miss having a keyboard. I am not a fan of the touch screen keyboard. By the time I’m done with a text or whatever, it looks like chinese. I may have lost 16lbs, but my fingers are obviously still sausages. wtf?
Around my 7th/8th grade year of highschool, I got a bug up my ass to have this hair-do I saw on some chick in a magazine. I tore it out and proceeded to drive my mother crazy until she let me get it. At the time I had hair slightly longer than chin length. Straight. The photo showed curly hair, big falling, wavy curls.
Mom dropped me off at the hairdresser while she went shopping. In order to get this “look”, I would need a perm. So the girl put rollers and perm solution in my hair, then stuck me under the dryer…while she and her co-workers shoved pizza down their gullets during their break. Guess what? She forgot about me. My hair was fried. My scalp was fried. I looked like a poodle with a tight perm. I had a “fro’ sans pick. My mom walked in to pick me up, see’s me crying and freaked the fuck out.
We left with out paying a dime and a few choice words. The next morning, mom took me to her hairdresser (that did her old lady perms!) to straighten it. It was so damaged, I ended up with a pixie hair cut with the texture of straw. It took a year to grow that shit out.
My hair is pretty long now. I’ve always had short hair until about my mid 30’s. Everytime I go to get my hair did, I tease my bf that I’m going to cut it all off again because it’s easier. And I get the same joking reply, “You’ll FIND yourself BY yoursef, bitch!” Ha
Now THAT’s a great line by your bf!!! Can I use that?
And after I use that line, can I come stay at your house for a little while? On account of not wanting to have my dick cut off in the middle of the night and all…
Careful… the Germans might cut off your chonson.
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CADude…be my guest! Although I would suggest wearing a pie pan to bed afterwards…
When I had to move for my present job, I found a new local barber. He gave me whitewalls the size of those on a 30’s roadster. I was done paying for shit so for the last fifteen years I’ve cut it myself. I bought a set of clippers, slip on the second shortest guide and just cut it all the same. Every couple weeks I let the wife trim up the bottom back so it is straight.
Easy to wash, nothing to comb and since I’ve been mostly happily married for the last 25 years, I’m not out looking for new snatch.
Phil, I have that same haircut right now! I always go outside to do it and plug the clippers into the outside wall socket so I don’t have to clean up inside the house.
Yep, same here. Once I determined that I was done with all that sissy haircut stuff involving scissors and just had it clippered all over, I didn’t see the point in paying someone else to do it. Spent £30 on some decent clippers about 12 years ago and buzz it down to 6mm as required.
Well until last week that is. Damn 6mm comb broke in half just as I had about four more runs to make. Huh, this could suck and I might be looking like a total douche until I can get this sorted. Luckily, there was a 7mm comb from an older set of clippers that fit, so I was away. Look at me with my crazy long hair! I’m living the edge I tell you.
Like Dad always said, if you aren’t living on the edge, you’re taking up too much fucking space.
Rick, the only things in the middle of the road are dead armadillos and Joe Lieberman.
jtb
I forgot to mention, I feel the same as Jeff about the GMA staff and that includes the formers. Can’t last a minute listening to Sawyer on the evening news. She is horrible.
She always sounds like someone is pulling a finger out of her ass when she finishes a story.
Oh yeah… I don’t believe I’ve ever seen GMA. The station I worked at was an NBC affiliate. On days off, the last thing I wanted to do was watch TV.
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Worst haircut, hmmm. That would be back in the early 80’s from an old guy we “affectionately” referred to as “Chainsaw.”
My brother and I raced sprint cars back in the 80s, in the same time span the “Fast Times at Ridgemont High” came out. We were low dollar outcasts and after seeing the punkish words “Surf Nazis” grafitied several places in the movie, we took a can of black spray paint and put “Surf Nazis” on the side of our trailer.
One of our pit crew thought it would be cool to get some “Surf Nazi” ball caps printed up. He did, and he, my brother and I went in to get haircuts from “Chainsaw.”
I sat down in the chair, removed my hat, and instantly had to endure the litany that follows.
“Surf Nazis, huh?” You smart ass punks don’t know what reall men went through! In WW2 I was on a destroyer in the Atlantic and I fought those Surf Nazis.”
After we got out of there with bad haircuts, we talked of our respect for the veterans, but then the jokes commenced. (Oh, and I am a 2 war veteran.)
Worst haircut – I was 18 or so, with hair freshly grown out from my Godawful bowl haircut of high school, and thought I needed some freshening up before I hit the next year of college. Being cheap, I went to a HairCuttery and got slotted in to a chair belonging to someone who did not understnad English and smelled like she’d just come from the kimchi factory (not knocking up, but boy, if you’re going to have a job working with strangers 1 foot from your mouth, invest in some mints!). She asked what I wanted, I told her, she held up a hunk of LONG hair from the crown of my head, said “oh so Rady Di?” and said no, and she sliced through that hunk of hair about 4 inches from the scalp, and I cried. I wound up with some horrible Dorothy Hamill/Lady Di layered piece of crap hairdo that took me forever to grow out, at which point I got an awesome 80’d mullet cut from a fabulous gay dude and was so proud.
At least at THAT point it was my decision!
*understand
*knocking IT
*and I said no
Another great haircut story from earlier youth…My Dad took my two brothers and I down to a barbershop in Redmond, WA once a once. My brother and I got crewcuts, while my whiny, in style little brother Rob was allowed to get the more expensive “3D Mod Hairstyle”. Seriously, there was some cheezy advertisement for it thumb tacked to the barber’s wall.
My brother and I were never really happy to have crewcuts, and one Saturday morning he remarked to me, “How come you and I always come out of there looking like Henry Fonda, and Rob comes out looking like Peter Fonda?”
1990 – I had my roommate ‘trim’ my hair (while she was drunk, no less). It was rather…uneven. I followed this up with a trip to a ‘hair salon’ – in a mall. [Head Hunters – Clarksburg, WV]
I would have been better off leaving my hair in the Drunk Cut.
There was a 4″ length difference between the left and right side! In the end, the local BARBER was sought out. I wound up with the “Watts” cut from “Some Kind of Wonderful”. It looked much nicer on Mary Stuart Masterson.
First of all, I’d snag that thing from your neighbors and it would be the top of my Christmas tree this year.
Second of all, don’t get me fucking started on bad haircuts. I grew up in the beauty industry (my parents owned a hair product distributor) and used to have to get my hair cut TWICE A YEAR at a fucking hair trade show. This is where stylists go to see the latest thing. So I would be on stage (at the tender age of 13 – imagine!) and get a haircut that was 1/2″ all over my head, with one long piece in the front that looked like I was speaking into a mike. TWICE A YEAR until I was finally working a real job for him and he needed me on the floor. I got thick skinned real fast, let me tell you.
Fuck. Can you tell that just put me in a bad mood? Fuck.
Happy Saturday, Surfers!
Fuck.
“Fuck”.
…Buck and McNulty during kitchen homicide investigation
Fuck….that obviously should be Bunk. I fucked up my own fuck comment. Fuck. Fuck me.
Love,
jtb
Sorry, ‘him’ would be my father, who, one time, stood at the back of the room while I was on stage and laughed and pointed at the hair cut they were giving me.
Good Times.
Actually, it was pretty funny and I would have done the same to him.
GMA is now less relevant than HLN. The rest of the stations (except the most worthless NBC) on any given day are showing what’s happening in the world and GMA is sticking with how Matt Damon is touching up Bonnie Raitt’s grey spot. Now they’re going to milk Robin “Oh I’m so human and fraught with the same emotions that you are” Roberts’ illness for all they can. Disgusting.
Oh, and “Klansman Kuts!” Truly hilarious.
Jeff, do you believe in omens? I do. That…er…object the neighbors threw out just speaks to me of a cigar store Indian, like maybe from the cigar store where you got, uhmm…scalped. I think the old guy decapitated it because the hairstyle on it showed him up too bad. And here it is, not come back to haunt you, but more like a voice of affirmation to your blog from the Cosmos. heh. My worst cut was from the local beauty screwl where for some unknown reason, my mom offered my head up as a sacrifice and got me a perm and a cut when I was in that sensitive period designated by the warning sign of teen after the age–14 or so. I looked like George Washington. Monumental turd roll all the way around the back, from ear to shining ear. I holed up in the bathroom with scissors and brush as soon as we got home. I was soooo way upset that she didn’t even try to talk me out of fixing it myself. Thus began a tradition of getting my hair done and coming home and fixing it, until I finally started just cutting it myself. First there was the asymmetric look–in the 1960s, mind you. THAT gave me some much needed space while I was getting into my locker in high school. Then there was the pixie cut when I was a senior in high school. Apparently, I was the only kid who knew who Mia Farrow was. Except for a short stint with a shag (great DIY style–you put it in a pony tail on top of your head, hold the pony tail straight up, and cut straight across), the pixie held me in good stead until I gained some weight. Then it made me look like a pinhead. I wallered around from style to style and color to color over many long years, then I finally came up with a plan. It took that long for the stars to align. Finally, at the tender age of 60, I have found a hairstyle imma stick with. The messy look. Start out with #8 clippers, then go to #7. Finish up with the nifty slanted ones over each ear (only backwards to the letter on the clippers–works that way when it’s DIY), and #2 up the back, trimmer on the neck. I simply tell anybody who asks why I have my hair that way that I had 2 good hair days in my entire life until I came up with this style and I’m sticking with it. I get the lightest blonding kit I can find and use a third of it a month. That’s until I can figure out how to change the salt and pepper to pure white. The consensus from the all-wise web is that I need to use a purple toner for that, but not too purple and not for too long. It seems that the little old ladies I used to see with purple hair didn’t really want it that way for Easter after all. At any rate, my hair washes quickly, then I just spike it with gel and spray it that way. If I’m forced to be out socially amongst folks who will look at me askance, I just wear the bitchy hoops as I call them (pierced earrings), and the naysayers are somehow brought to total silence. Reaching age 60 better be worth something!
When I was a kid, my grandfather owned the Star Theater. One corner of the lobby was sectioned off and rented as Chamberlain’s Barber Shop. The shop was about 10 by 10 feet total.
Mister Chamberlain was about 80 and looked like a portly country doctor, pressed white shirt, dress pants, very shiny black shoes, round Harry Potter glasses.
The other barber was Austin Wade who was likely 75 or so and would cut hair with a cigarette hanging off his lip. Sometimes the ash would reach about 2 inches long and it would fall on your head when was running the clippers up your neck. He smelled like booze and had a weird facial tick but he was a really nice guy. He always looked like he slept in his clothes and needed a shave.
They had a whole rack of really old hair tonics and they would sprinkle some on your head after the haircut if you asked. I always got Wild Root hair tonic and all the old guys would laugh when I asked for it, but Austin Wade would sprinkle some on and rub it in real hard like it was some sort of special event.
Then Mister Chamberlain would hand my grandfather an envelope with the monthly rent, back then it was $40.00 and we got free haircuts every month.
In the mid or late Seventies, some local guy decided to open an upscale men’s clothing store and paid my granddad $50,000 for the building. I remember men ripping out the barber shop wall and all of the theater seats and the projector and heaving all this stuff into dump trucks. I felt sad, but my granddad sold the building and called the guy a damn fool.
A few years later the entire building burned to the ground, likely hit by Jewish lightening (granddad’s words, not mine).
There is still an empty lot where that theater stood today right in the middle of town.
Worst haircut I ever had I gave to myself. I was touching up the facial hair and sideburns with the clippers and thought “what the hell? why not?”…. The president of the company asked if I got out early for good behaviour.
I used to go to a place called Gary’s that was run by a guy named John. Yeah go figure. With th first old guy in the chair it’s all talk about hunting fishing hunting fishing. The next guy is all talk about football hockey football hockey. So, I’m all ready for some macho talk when it’s my turn. I plop down in the chair and the start of our conversation is “you’ve got really soft hair, do you use a conditioner?”
Lost the top of one ear at about 5 years old to a young black lady who had been “cutting hair for three days”–Needless to say I get a little jumpy in the chair now. She literally just took the scissors and lopped part of my ear off, and then had to explain to my VERY angry mother why it “wasn’t that big of a deal”. Also got nicked on the lip one time by a barber who wanted to clean up my mustache. Felt like it bled for days, because every time I went to say something, it would come open again.
I was about to laugh at all you idiots until I realized I get my hair cut by a 6ft 4in male to female transgendered person who I knew for over 10 years as a name she never wants to be called again. Good haircut though.
I’ll finish the GMA tirade: Good Morning America AKA “The Dancing with the Stars infomercial” sucks. Nothing but promos for ABC shows and tabloid/celebrity garbage [thanks to the addition of the very hot and very annoying Lara Spencer].
She should just show her cooch already and STFU!
I spent my entire childhood with a bad haircut.
There is a local morning show here that has this reporter that keeps “internationalizing” words. Every time he pronounces muslim, “Moose-lem” I want to throw a Wii remote through the TV.
The one that bugs me is “pocky-stahn” for Pakistan.
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