Things I Shouldn't Tell You: I Kinda Get Upset When People Don't Notice I Got A Haircut

In the realm of starving for superficial attention, there are children, some girls, and Dub Jeezy. I titled this post, "Things I Shouldn't Tell You" because you assholes should NOT know about my affliction.

Full disclosure: I'm afflicted with the "need to be recognized for being fresh" syndrome and there is nothing I can do about it. Whenever I get a haircut, I'm walking 2.4 centimeters off the ground atop a fake cloud with a perma-half smile on my face ready to take control of everything. It's like my birthday once a month for about 2 hours. And more or less, I look like a dickhead.

Now here's the kind of (extremely) embarrassing part: when I get home I put my roommates on a timer that dictates when they HAVE to respond to my new cut. The newfound dominance that I convinced myself I'm exuding needs to be recognized. What ends up happening is very sad. I basically put a spotlight on my head, where a shirt with an "UP" arrow on it, and thrust my face into spots that'll draw attention, like alongside the TV or right by the kitchen table. Sends me into a tailspin. Roommates saying stuff like, "You're exactly like a chick", "Get your head away from the TV", and "I purposely didn't comment on your haircut because I've grown to hate your haircut antics."

Can't tell you how long this ridiculous segment (?) I created may last, but it's really self-deprecating and most certainly made me sad. It's like I'm my own psychologist, I guess.

WMD=a dude constantly feeding into his latent God-complex.