BEWARE: Hipster Twats in Nannas clothing..

Let us all have a standing ovation for the men folk that pay exorbitant amounts to have a more often than not well below par hipster cut wanked over with “shears” and on occasions, a scissor glove that some hair cutter named Rocco found in the far flung corner of the 2010 Sydney hair expo. Outrageous! Outrageous indeed! For quiet some time I have noticed a large number of the male population have been brainwashed by these pied pipers of “barbers” and what might you ask may be so tempting to all these men.. Beer!! That’s right, a FREE fucken 330ml beer! Why don’t you just save yourself the wankery and cry out “Please mr Hipster man that appears to resemble Fagin from Oliver! please treat me like I’m a try hard nerd in year 8 and not worthy to set foot in your manly hair emporium! I so enjoy awkward random questions posed by vacuous pretenders with tatts and beards and clothing that appears to have surfaced from the steerage class of the long since sunken Titanic. I want to be unique and individual, just like you mr hipster! I want it all and I’ll pay thru my bleeding buggered arsehole gleefully, because, I’ll get a “free” sherbet thrown in for my trouble!” No!!!!! Beware boys, Do not fall foul of A.D.B (Attention Deficit Beero) Do not be fooled into turning into a dreaded hipster, you must see through their ominous black magic and revoke the skin tight button down sleeveless shits and the suspenders, take back the beard and the moustache and declare “I will not be misguided by a twat in grannys clothing, not even for an Asahi!”

The “Sit the fuck still!” Clients…

Crack, Marionettes and haircuts don’t mix..

Whilst having your haircut it’d be a terrific help if you just sat the fuck still. Turning your giddy head to look directly into my eyes is not advisable. To make myself plain, I am not able to cut a precise line if you’re doing your best impression of a marionette puppet on crack listening to electro house tunes . It’s common practice for clients talk to me by looking into the mirror you and I find ourselves in front of at this very moment!… Confusing as it may be we are both, in fact facing the same direction, I see you, you see me, this phenomena is known as a reflection. Amazing and true… Welcome.

The Neurotic “I’m the only woman on this earth that has birthed a child, and I’m going to make sure you know ALL about it” client..

A woman aged 35-50 dressed as Michelle Bridges or one of her contests on The Biggest Loser barges into the salon with her human trophy of fertility perched in a titanic sized jogging pram. Her life is now devoted to being a painfully neurotic mummy martyr. Her whole existence is consumed with her freshly baked legacy usually named something whimsical and pretentiously vomitus ie. Dandelion, Huxtaberger, Ajax or Arabica..

Mommy dearest: Oh!…umm.. Are you the lowly peasant honoured with cutting my anointed child today? What are your credentials exactly? Are you sure you’re even qualified!?…(SIGH) I must insist on interrogating you with every single strand of hair you touch or even contemplate looking at..

Hairdresser: Pardon me Madame,
You’re demonic spawn is hissing, writhing and screeching with such vigour a banshee would cover it’s bleeding ears.. If we continue on I’ll have to call in a young priest and an old priest.. If I may be so bold to suggest, do you think it best to reschedule, perhaps when Rosemary’s Baby is feeling a little less satanic?