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it's a permanent (a joke gone awry)

it's well known that i'm a card carrying bigot. when i'm not quoting known racists such as hitler, mengale, and ghandi i'm plotting my takeover of one of the smallish baltic states to fill with swedish women and thai concubines. but my racist maxims and morals are easily malleable particularly when the right african enters my life.

stunnerintroducing amanda, the most stunning black woman i've ever met. in my (vain) attempt to woo this nubian princess, i've adapted to the look she's accustomed to. well tanned from months on beaches, i have the skin color but there's one thing missing: tightly curled hair. it's time to get a perm.

if there's one thing i've learned from my various university degrees on courtship, it's that the foundations of any good relationship are based on one of dating parties (usually the man) to change everything about himself to suit the other.

alright, alright. i didn't do it for a girl. the swedish penis pump? well, that's another story. but as god intended, now that i'm black, i retain my right to speak in urban slang without fear of sounding like a wannabe.

perm

the perm idea originally came to me when i mentioned to the jerks in bangkok that i'd consider doing this for shits and giggles. i needed a haircut anyway and since it was so cheap in cebu, i thought, why not. but this intended joke has gone horribly awry. instead of the ridicule i expected, i'm getting compliments from strangers while filipinos are approaching me and speaking cebuano (a local dialect) confusing me for a local. and without blowing my own horn, so to speak, i think my afro/do-rag combination looks pretty damn cool, bordering on new york city metrosexual... which i think is a good thing.

after years of envying curly hair, i realize though the grass definitely isn't greener on this side and i'm thankful for my straight untangled mop. sure it'll be fun for a little while but in the countless fist fights i've had with women, my advantage came from short unclutchable hair. the next cat-fight i get into, i'll be on level ground with my female combatant. i'm weak and flabby. i predict a quick and painful demise and an immediate return to my long gone days of short ungrabbable hair.

and incidentally, boy do i love being rejected by girls all the time. amanda, i love you. why won't you return my phone calls!?! i swear, i had no belt... my pants accidentally fell down! (sigh)

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