This is what often takes place after I have an encounter with a woman that I have a crush on. Like many things I do, it is terribly odd and pointless. After concluding a nice little conversation with the person, I run frantically to the nearest mirror or mirror-like object (could be a window, a soup can, or the "back" of a compact disk also works quite well), and check to see if my hair looks "good". For some reason, I feel satisfied if it does look good, and I get terribly distraught if it looks bad. I know this serves no purpose, but it does give me a feeling as to how the encounter went. Of course, if a woman would dislike me because of messed up hair, why the hell would I want to have anything to do with her? The answer to that question is not certain, but it probably involves sex. Oh yeah, baby, I am an animal. Grrr.

I only participate in this activity because I have shaggy hair, and it has a tendency to do silly things at inappropriate times. I especially hate it when my rather bushy sideburns get discombobulated. If I had short, clean-cut hair, this hair check would not take place as much, probably because I would be dead, because I would rather kill myself than have short hair.

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