The nightmare of the swirly red and white stip thingy, scissors, and cosmetics. I have never left the barber happily. They almost always cut my ear, or cut one side longer than the other, so i dunno.
there was a brber. supprisingly enough he was the only one who had wittnessed the crime. but does that make him inesent? that is what we all wonder but never ask
i have never been to a barber shop but they must be a lot like loggers, or dam builders – useful, but carrying a tragedy to them, snipping free-flowing cascades of hair into this or that fashion or manageability, taming the beautiful wild.
The razor brazes his cheek. White shaving cream laps waves of foam across his face.
“Be careful” said the main in the tall leather chair.
“Trust me, I’ve been a barber for years.” stated the trustworthy barber as the razor slit the mans throat.
Beware of the Sweeney Todd fanatics.
I have never been to a barber. I always went to a unisex place or cut my own hair. I think being a barber is a weird profession. Think about how most people react to hair. A stray hair on the bathroom floor? A hair in your food. This guy wanted to make it his profession to play around with hair all day. I think that is weird.
Samuel Barber is not my favourite composer, but his Adagio is stupendous.
It’s playing on your radio right now, but you don’t realize it. You think, “That’s pretty,” and you move on. You’re doing your dishes, the harsh sound of the faucet drowning out subtle harmonic progressions. You’re right, it is pretty— but it’s more than that. It’s downright brilliant.
Barber: one who cuts mens’ hair. I wonder whether they’re able to cut womens’ hair. I need a haircut, personally. I don’t think I’ll go to a barber though. They’re very… men centered. Which is fine, it kind of comes with the territory.
He stepped up to the barbers chair, eye level with the high back. The barber placed a cushion for the boy to sit on and smiled as he looked away at the look on his face.
barber shop. an old black man doesnt say much as he makes it looks like every hint of effort is going into perfectly aligning the blade against the young mans side burns … the young man talks to his buddy in the next chair about the fight that was busted last night….
barber, barbarious, cut, snip. sever the roots of growth, a portion of time, gone. it flutters to the floor, with the grace of a swooping swallow, peaceful. gone.
he started to cut. the first strand fell to the floor and i heard a gasp escape my lips. I’ve always had long hair, my whole life. It was the crowned jewel of my mother’s heritage.
The barber was well loved by all of his town. He’s been cutting the hair of the men and boys since pretty much forever. He is trusting, and always good for conversation. The little boys never cry on their first haircuts, but instead they gaze with admiration at such a man, and it is at that moment that he captivates their business and respect for a lifetime to come.
shop quartets are rather charming – wouldn’t you say? I like their outfits perhaps the best of all. And the melodious harmony they create. Some might say the Beach Boys are like a Californian barber shop quartet. And the Beatles a British one. Ah… the barber. Where we used to just get our haircut…
As the barber cut my hair, I knew that things would change. A pixie cut and then to a new city. Everything would change, no one would know me. I would become a new person. It would be great.
I was a few minutes late, so in order to appease my snippy Barber, I jokingly slid into the chair and said, “Sorry I had to shave a few minutes off our appointment, but it was really hairy out there.”
He pinched my ear before proceeding with business as usual. But I didn’t care, because he’s the best in town.
The locks fell to the floor in one swift motion, long and dark, gone with the barber’s skilled hands. His face was starting to appear, from underneath the thick beard and long hair that had grown over the years, it startled him to see himself in the mirror, his sharp features now covered only slightly, his hair trimmed neatly.
When I last went to the barber, he was wearing a thick leather apron. It was red with brown stains randomly splotched across it. He smiled beneath his thick mustache and greeted me with his usual hair-armed hug. Only this time, something was different.
My barber was Teddy Bear. Great name, but not for a barber. Great barber, but not for his name. Great barber for massaging the ointment into the scalp, making this straight dude love the touch of an older gentleman.
Red, white, and blue. Swirling down the pipe and then again. Repeated every 7 seconds. Red, white, and blue. Swirling . . . I’m getting dizzy. Snip snip. I looked past the colored tube and into the store.
I stood in the barber shop waiting to shave off the beard I had been growing for 20 years. My wife hated it, but it was a part of me. Maybe this is my way of commemorating her memory. Maybe I just wanted to make her happy one last time. I wish I had let it go before she left me. It would have saved us a lot arguments. It’s my only regret.
The demon barber, Sweeny Todd I think? I kinda want to watch that movie, but only cause it has Johnny Depp in it. He is one good lookin man (sometimes not so much as Willy Wonka)
And one time I tipped this barber (shes a girl so maybe beautician?) 5 dollars it was cool.
The End!
He was a gray old man. His hair was white, and his eyes a piercing bright blue. Those eyes always seemed to smile at you, despite the wrinkles and the deep worry lines surrounding them. He always had a story, the barber. A story of the war, of his children, or my very favorite, of how he met his wife. There’s nothing more beautiful than that story.
There was once a barber named Johnny Depp. He was the hottest barber in all the land. Even though he was hot, he was evil as well. He killed people or something I think. And then some lady sold their bodies and people ate them. I’m not really sure I’ve never seen Sweeney Todd before but all I know is my baby daddy Johnny is in it. He’s so hot as captain Jack Sparrow.
When I was really young I used to watch the Andy Griffith Show. I loved Mayberry – Aunt Bee and Opie, Andy and Barney, too. Even Otis, the town drunk was lovable. But I remember every time Floyd the barber came on, I would shut my eyes and start to cry! He scared me! Never figured out why…
When I was little I saw an ad where a woman goes to a barber shop and gets her hair cut in a man’s style. I was so eager to grow up and be that woman and show that I could be like a man. I realize now how completely ridiculous that notion is, as if she somehow gained empowerment by stepping into a man’s domain and becoming man in what she saw as just the right ways, but doing it sexy, “like a woman”.
the barber cuts hair, and he cuts it really well, but sometimes he cuts too much off and there’s too much hair on the floor and the customer is like ‘whhaaatt’, and the barber can’t sleep at night because he’s scared the customer will kill him in his sleep. But that’s alright because he belongs to the barber union and they provide protection for cases such as these.
Well barbers cut peoples hair. I don’t like barbers at all! They always mess up your hair! So I just go to my Aunt (she’s a professional!)
The nightmare of the swirly red and white stip thingy, scissors, and cosmetics. I have never left the barber happily. They almost always cut my ear, or cut one side longer than the other, so i dunno.
there was a brber. supprisingly enough he was the only one who had wittnessed the crime. but does that make him inesent? that is what we all wonder but never ask
A person that cuts your hair.
Red
Barber or stylists which is what they are called now a days. They cut and style peoples hair.
Barber. Isn’t that someone who cuts your hair? Yes, they cut your hair, normally? Anyway, barber is a weird word.
A barber is a person who cut hair in the olden days. I think Barbershop quartets are really weird.
i have never been to a barber shop but they must be a lot like loggers, or dam builders – useful, but carrying a tragedy to them, snipping free-flowing cascades of hair into this or that fashion or manageability, taming the beautiful wild.
Barber shops are not fun i like my hair and they cut it off!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The razor brazes his cheek. White shaving cream laps waves of foam across his face.
“Be careful” said the main in the tall leather chair.
“Trust me, I’ve been a barber for years.” stated the trustworthy barber as the razor slit the mans throat.
Beware of the Sweeney Todd fanatics.
My little brother doesn’t like to go to the barber. I have never been to a barber shop before. Nobody says barber anymore.
A person that cuts hair.
a barber is a person who cuts your hair i went to the barber for a hair cut. that is what a barber is.
I have never been to a barber. I always went to a unisex place or cut my own hair. I think being a barber is a weird profession. Think about how most people react to hair. A stray hair on the bathroom floor? A hair in your food. This guy wanted to make it his profession to play around with hair all day. I think that is weird.
Samuel Barber is not my favourite composer, but his Adagio is stupendous.
It’s playing on your radio right now, but you don’t realize it. You think, “That’s pretty,” and you move on. You’re doing your dishes, the harsh sound of the faucet drowning out subtle harmonic progressions. You’re right, it is pretty— but it’s more than that. It’s downright brilliant.
the barbers at barber shops are very mean whenever haircuts are suppose to be a fun experiance…….
Barber: one who cuts mens’ hair. I wonder whether they’re able to cut womens’ hair. I need a haircut, personally. I don’t think I’ll go to a barber though. They’re very… men centered. Which is fine, it kind of comes with the territory.
My barber works downtown. His name is John. I like the way he cuts my hair. Sometimes he gives me a design.
He stepped up to the barbers chair, eye level with the high back. The barber placed a cushion for the boy to sit on and smiled as he looked away at the look on his face.
barber shop. an old black man doesnt say much as he makes it looks like every hint of effort is going into perfectly aligning the blade against the young mans side burns … the young man talks to his buddy in the next chair about the fight that was busted last night….
barber, barbarious, cut, snip. sever the roots of growth, a portion of time, gone. it flutters to the floor, with the grace of a swooping swallow, peaceful. gone.
he started to cut. the first strand fell to the floor and i heard a gasp escape my lips. I’ve always had long hair, my whole life. It was the crowned jewel of my mother’s heritage.
Snipping away at my sanity like a barber. Turn me around in your chair again and again. Examine me and scrutinize, “Oh that’s a bit too long”
Snip Snip
There goes some more of me..
Falling to the floor to be swept away in afterthought.
The barber was well loved by all of his town. He’s been cutting the hair of the men and boys since pretty much forever. He is trusting, and always good for conversation. The little boys never cry on their first haircuts, but instead they gaze with admiration at such a man, and it is at that moment that he captivates their business and respect for a lifetime to come.
shop quartets are rather charming – wouldn’t you say? I like their outfits perhaps the best of all. And the melodious harmony they create. Some might say the Beach Boys are like a Californian barber shop quartet. And the Beatles a British one. Ah… the barber. Where we used to just get our haircut…
As the barber cut my hair, I knew that things would change. A pixie cut and then to a new city. Everything would change, no one would know me. I would become a new person. It would be great.
I was a few minutes late, so in order to appease my snippy Barber, I jokingly slid into the chair and said, “Sorry I had to shave a few minutes off our appointment, but it was really hairy out there.”
He pinched my ear before proceeding with business as usual. But I didn’t care, because he’s the best in town.
The locks fell to the floor in one swift motion, long and dark, gone with the barber’s skilled hands. His face was starting to appear, from underneath the thick beard and long hair that had grown over the years, it startled him to see himself in the mirror, his sharp features now covered only slightly, his hair trimmed neatly.
When I last went to the barber, he was wearing a thick leather apron. It was red with brown stains randomly splotched across it. He smiled beneath his thick mustache and greeted me with his usual hair-armed hug. Only this time, something was different.
My barber was Teddy Bear. Great name, but not for a barber. Great barber, but not for his name. Great barber for massaging the ointment into the scalp, making this straight dude love the touch of an older gentleman.
Red, white, and blue. Swirling down the pipe and then again. Repeated every 7 seconds. Red, white, and blue. Swirling . . . I’m getting dizzy. Snip snip. I looked past the colored tube and into the store.
I stood in the barber shop waiting to shave off the beard I had been growing for 20 years. My wife hated it, but it was a part of me. Maybe this is my way of commemorating her memory. Maybe I just wanted to make her happy one last time. I wish I had let it go before she left me. It would have saved us a lot arguments. It’s my only regret.
The demon barber, Sweeny Todd I think? I kinda want to watch that movie, but only cause it has Johnny Depp in it. He is one good lookin man (sometimes not so much as Willy Wonka)
And one time I tipped this barber (shes a girl so maybe beautician?) 5 dollars it was cool.
The End!
He was a gray old man. His hair was white, and his eyes a piercing bright blue. Those eyes always seemed to smile at you, despite the wrinkles and the deep worry lines surrounding them. He always had a story, the barber. A story of the war, of his children, or my very favorite, of how he met his wife. There’s nothing more beautiful than that story.
There was once a barber named Johnny Depp. He was the hottest barber in all the land. Even though he was hot, he was evil as well. He killed people or something I think. And then some lady sold their bodies and people ate them. I’m not really sure I’ve never seen Sweeney Todd before but all I know is my baby daddy Johnny is in it. He’s so hot as captain Jack Sparrow.
When I was really young I used to watch the Andy Griffith Show. I loved Mayberry – Aunt Bee and Opie, Andy and Barney, too. Even Otis, the town drunk was lovable. But I remember every time Floyd the barber came on, I would shut my eyes and start to cry! He scared me! Never figured out why…
When I was little I saw an ad where a woman goes to a barber shop and gets her hair cut in a man’s style. I was so eager to grow up and be that woman and show that I could be like a man. I realize now how completely ridiculous that notion is, as if she somehow gained empowerment by stepping into a man’s domain and becoming man in what she saw as just the right ways, but doing it sexy, “like a woman”.
the barber cuts hair, and he cuts it really well, but sometimes he cuts too much off and there’s too much hair on the floor and the customer is like ‘whhaaatt’, and the barber can’t sleep at night because he’s scared the customer will kill him in his sleep. But that’s alright because he belongs to the barber union and they provide protection for cases such as these.
A barber is someone that cuts or styles people’s hair, I think. Although my family usually cuts my hair but they might be better.