Electricity
Member
I'm aghast at the level of male grooming in general these days (and don't get me started on skinny jeans)Jambo takes offence at fat-cheeked, three-chinned losers with haircuts straight out of the corner-shop Muslim barbers quite easily.
I find that one hilarious: every man in Ireland with hair seems to have the same cut and style: beard leading up to a shaved area around ear level with a plop of wispy hair on top that makes their heads look less fat than they are. They'll happily throw money at Jamal when booking an appointment for a haircut and they'll even sit there telling him their life story. What they do, where they work, how they make money, who they're going out with, the game, the weather, the latest headlines (but never going too deep lest they lose the run of their mouth and say something blatantly racist.
I've read chumps who are saying that these barber shops are fronts for money-laundering cash from people-trafficking. It might well be the case, the sudden proliferation of dozens of these barber-shops is rather like the previous version which was nail salons. Ten or fifteen of them in the same neighbourhood. Where are they now? Don't the girls want their manicures and pedicures any more? Those shops opened with the advent of the newly arriving eastern European ladies with their fine features and blond hair, their grace and femininity, their cute accents, the way they walk, the way they look at you. Gorgeous little things.
Of course when Bridie and Concepta saw them coming, they freaked the fuck out and went shopping pronto. Nine inch heels, make-up applied with a standard trowel, sprayed bright orange all over in some little booth behind a top-shelf porn newsagents. The slapper mini skirts and plunging neckline tops. The speed in their bright blue bottles of WKD and the coke they bang up the nose to give them an edge before hitting The Wexford Inn for some real Irish trad to sing along to, then off to Copperfaced Jacks for the binge drinking of pints of yellow lager and shots of Jagermeister. Handbags on the floor beside them, they lurch and sway on the spot and eyeball the culchie coppers and nurses for someone to give them a love-bite right under their ear for everyone to see (bar herself, the dumb slapper).
I bet you a pound to a penny that when Jimmy Jambo needs a trim, he's off down to to see Jamal and Mohammud to get his nasal hair waxed (then crying like a baby) and his ear-lugs cleaned with a small but powerful jet of warm water that breaks up the wax and washes it out. Then the beard-shaping: Jamal gives him three photos to look at: 'you pick one you, I have you cut in ten minute, my friend'.
Look very closely at that photo above, my friend: that's you.
100% James Dawson - born loser, closet homosexual, lazy cunt, and boring second hand bastard with a short fuse.
And have you seen the price of haircuts.. and these idiots are in there fortnightly. Jaze