I used to get my haircut, back when I had a job, probaby 10 years ago, before I threw in the towel on a regular life, and decided to be as homeless as possible, because when I had a job, and I’d walk by homeless people, I would envy their existence, but in my filthy, perverted, ways, I couldn’t commit to living on the street, so I figured just stay with my fat wife who paid the rent on our shitty apartment, but at least I won’t be cold at night, except when she forgets to pay the electric bill, but that’s better than lviing on a bench, for a reclusive person with a blog..
That said…
My barber was this Italian, because I guess italian’s don’t find running their hands through another man’s hair gay…even though I felt being touched like that a little too romantic..for man on man action…which I guess is why I’m posting these pics of Monica Bullucci…for my Eduardo or whatever the fuck his name was…it was 10 years ago…who had pictures of her all over his shop and would talk about her to a creepy level…
Because I guess, my barber married a fat hairy Italian, probbaly one who looked a bit like me, which is why he was so gentle with his touch…
And Monica Bellucci was the beacon of hope…the reminder than not all italian women are disgusting..