My new haircut

So the other day, Friday I believe, I went on down to Oak Street and got my hair cut by Bud, this super old dude who tells me WWII stories while he cuts my hair. It's a pretty cool shop, he say's he's been cuttin' hair in the same room since the 50s. It's got one of those swirly red and blue poles out front. So anyway, on this particular Friday I decided I wanted to try out a part. I thought "hey, I haven't actually, you know, combed my hair since I was like 11 years old. Maybe it'll look fresh." And man, does it ever.

When my dogg Kevin saw me he said something like "If you had a letterman jacket then you could totally take Stefany out for a milkshake and a drive-in movie in your cherry red convertible and it would be awesome." That's pretty much exactly the look I was going for. I need to start smoking so I can roll up the pack in my sleeve, and carry around a bandana for when my hands get dirty working on my little deuce coupe.

My classes are going swimmingly, I start work this week, and you'll all be pleasantly surprised to hear that I've gone over a week in New Orleans without getting drunk. Not many people can say that.