The I-made-a-huge-regretable-mistake diaries and advice on how not to be like me- entry #1: You are not special

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
Read and take note of my advice on how not to end up like me

Submitted: July 01, 2008

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Submitted: July 01, 2008

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As I sit here, I feel the pressure that great responsibility brings. As an eyebrowless person, I feel that it is my duty to give you a vital piece of advice- which you will probably choose to ignore.

Just like you, I fell into the trap of believing that I was above everyone else; that my level of intellegence and ability was superior to other mere mortals. I scoffed at the wisdom which previous generations bestowed upon me. I ignored the voices of reason which said to me, “Don’t cut your own hair.” I’m sure you’ve received this bit of advice in the past too. Believing, however, that  I was special and capable of greater things, I decided to go against the little voice of reason and cut my own fringe.

 The result was not pretty. My neighbour almost phoned the SPCA on account of animal cruelty, thinking that I had stuck a fury animal to my forehead with super glue. It was with great embarresment (on her part and mine) that I informed her that it was actually just a haircut gone miserabely wrong. At this point, a revelation seemed to overcome her and she said, “You ignored the little voice, didn’t you?” 

This story of terrible jugement on my part gets even better. My father never needed to wear a hat: his eyebrows offered his face sufficient protection against harmfull UV rays. As far as my mother was concerned, she almost appeared to have just one big eyebrow instead of two. Of course, as Mendel’s law would have it, I received the dominant “ugly brow” genes. Being as unselfish and considerate as I am, I have had a fringe my whole life to protect the children in my community from the terrible nightmares that would occur if they were ever to glance upon my eyebrows. With my fringe gone,however, my brows were left suddenly very exposed and feeling oddly naked. I knew I had to do something about my eyebrows, because I wasn’t sure how long it would be until my fringe covered the fury little creatures again. I proceeded to pluck my eyebrows- oh so carefully at first, but as my confidence grew I began to pluck at my brows increasingly carelessly and with great vigour. I’m sure you can just imagine my regret when I relised that my left eyebrow was all but gone. I began ripping at my right brow to at least create the illusion of balance on my face. Then in a life-changing instant, my quest for normalacy was abruptly ended. Both brows were gone. They had escaped.

The image staring back at me from the mirror was unrecognisable. It wasn’t even a shadow of my former self, but rather something which looked like a cloned, plucked chicken experiment gone dreadfully wrong.

This is my heart-wrenching request, my final plee in an attempt to save someone else: don’t tell yourself that you are special and are able to cut your own hair, because within the space of a few minutes you could end up completely alone in the world- with nothing to keep you company, apart from penciled eyebrows and the charges of animal cruelty against your name.


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