“Dan, you need a haircut.”
That phrase has been ushered at me ever since I can remember. During my youth, my mother would make the proclamation that was then followed by her taking me to the barber. Later on, when I was in High School, my sister would cut my hair – it was easy being poofy like an afro – so she would make the announcement at dinner where my mom would agree, and I was quickly doomed to the chair in the middle of the kitchen floor.
In college, I was able to go long stretches, but if you ever want to have a girlfriend (Which I did) then you needed to be sure you were more than pre...
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