Friday, January 07, 2005
He looks like he came out to New York City at the age of 17 to pursue a career of modeling, an aspiration he had held dear ever since Father Tilly told him that he had "the nicest lips of all the alter boys" when he was 10. He stepped off the bus with nothing more than a small backpack full of clothes, his guitar and his lifelong dreams. One look at his long brown hair bound into ponytail by a rubberband and a friend in "the biz" proclaimed, "The first step to a modeling career is good hair. Well, actually, it's a slutty disposition and a complete lack of moral scruples, but you also want to have good hair." Since he had spent most of his money on his bus ticket out and had no bankable skills with which to pay for a glamorous cut, his friend referred him to the Vidal Sasson School of Styling where he received a stylish 'do from a hairdresser trainee named BabĂș, a flaming Kenyan with undying allegiance to Richard Marx and large, jangly bracelets. He was horrified when he saw the resulting hair style in the mirror but BabĂș assured him it was hip and cool...kind of Simon LeBon meets a featherduster. His insecure, self-conscious query of "Does my hair make me look gay?" soon became his never-failing catchphrase, and people quickly tired of him, avoiding him on the streets. His efforts to break into the modeling business failed, and other than appearing in a handful of salon books of haircuts-people-never-get-but-flip-through-and-laugh-at-while-in-the-waiting-area, he went to meeting after meeting with agents who snickered and politely waved him away. He headed back to his small town to live with his parents, where he has journals upon journals filled with rageful, psychopathic entries directed at the Vidal Sasson School of Styling. Sadly, if you ask most industry insiders, they will say that it wasn't so much his eccentric hairdo that killed his career, as the fact that he was always wearing homemade shirts made from what appeared to be recycled tablecloth. He died at the age of 24 in a freak jello accident, a very bitter, bitter man.
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9 comments:
Don't gimme that "oh your're gonna buy _that_ huh?" look. If you think only dorks wear sweaters like this then why the fuck is your store stocked full of them?
That makes you a dork too, like 300 times over.
I hate boutique cashiers. Especially this guy because he egged my house when I was 15 because my brother was getting fresh with the same girl his cousin wanted. So he and all his z-cavaricci wearing dance club thug cronies egged our house.
They'd also call us at three in the morning screaming stuff in vietnamese. If we asked what they wanted, they'd say "you're dead buddy" and hang up.
He smells like Drakkar.
No, no, no. See, this guy grew up in Hell's Kitchen and starting running with the wrong crowd back in his late teens. He ended up doing some time in the Pen for grand larceny. He got early parole for squealing on some old "associates", but as a result they had to put him in the Witness Protection Program.
As you can imagine I'm sure, those lips got him lots of extra attention when he was locked up, and it's left him a leetle paranoid in all aspects of his life. He is deathly afraid of being recognized by the hitmen he's positive are scouring the tiny Iowan town where he now resides in a modest duplex. So, whenever he fires up the minivan to go grocery shopping, he dons this wig. Only by covering as much of his face as possible can he feel safe.
Under the photo in question reads the headline, "The New Tommy Lee?" He decieded he was sick of the heavy metal rockstar life and changed his look. He got his hair done by a gay stylist named, Guy Vevier. He also got his lips pumped. He is now the singer for his new band 'Methods of Manicures', there new album "Sexy and Shaved", hits stores next month. Pamela Anderson won't return his calls.
Bearded lady...
Chrissy Hynde disappeared from public view after the unfortunate accident with her boyfriend's Rogaine.
What do you get when you cross a Rhode Island Red with Duran Duran?
A MESS
Two words..... DURAN DURAN
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