I got a haircut. This is my haircut. No it is NOT necessary for me to announce to you each time this happens, but I bring it up to beg the question: when your hair stylist is doing the thing where she’s giving you the complimentary scalp massage that is guaranteed to make you smell like a baby born on a commune, like in a good way, for days, are you meant to leave your eyes open and leer creepily at yourself and your stylist, or close your eyes and relax into it, making it oddly sexual, which is perhaps even creepier?

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