I haven’t been to a barber in a long time. A girl at the dorms at my college cuts my hair every once in a while for $5. Not a bad deal. I usually just get a trim. My dad used to take me to a different barber every month when I was a kid.
The barber tilted his client back in his high backed leather chair and swished his shaving blade on his apron to clear away any debris. This was the part he liked the best when the client was at their most vulnerable.
this barber is not trying to cut my throat. he is not singing. he does not look crazy, and there is actually a smile on his face. he runs the sharp cold metal across my sandpaper cheek and i wonder what would happen if he did cut me. would i feel it right away, the way my wife describes cutting her ankle when shaving her legs? would i feel nothing until he slashed hot water on my face and something to sting out the pain? would there be a scar? something inside me hopes so. maybe my wife would notice the scar on my face, think i’m hideous and leave. maybe i’d stop finding little curly-cues on the shower wall, course and brown on our fake porcelain white. maybe she’d leave me.
I just did this one about 5 min ago… why is it giving it to me again? kinda boring having to write about the same topic twice in a row… Anyway, barber’s cut people’s hair. I think i used to mix it up with the cartoon elephant’s name–Babar.
there used to be a barber down the street. I’m not sure who he was or where he went, but he’s gone now. He used to cut my family’s hair on Saturdays for free, and then mum would wash his clothes for him.
Barbers like to cut hair. One time, I went to visit a barber, and he told me my hair looked like it had just been through the car wash. Crazy right? Like, I don’t even know why he would say that. I love my ghetto ‘fro.
He was the last of the singing barbers. As I sat in his chair, he crooned in my ear: grief and love in four-part harmony, though when I looked in the mirror, he was alone. It was the saddest song, and tears rolled down my face, mingling with snips of damp hair. When he was done, he took off the apron and left the shop under the tinkle of a little bell. I’ve never had a haircut since; it grows in silence.
Red and white spinning poles. long sissors. cutting children’s hair. i remember when my mother and older brother used to go to a lady named Sue Haw. she was from newyork. and I refused to get my hair cut, so I had to sit on the floor and play with the odd collection of toys from their barber shop. To get the toys, I had to go to this old smelly lady and hug her, i think she might have been my mom’s friend, but she was creepy to me, and i would cry when i had to go see her.
My grandpa used to own a barber shop. So yes, that means he was a barber. Everyone went to his barber, not cause there was only two in the whole town. But because, it was where guys could hang out and talk.
a barber is someone who cuts people’s hair. They give different varieties of haircuts and they can give you a professional look. My dad goes to the barber all the time.
A very useful profession. Always hearing the snip snip of the scissors and seeing the final project. So lovely and elegant that nothing can go wrong and there’s one good thing about the day.
When i was younger, i used to visit the barber very unwillingly. After every session i would come back crying because i didn’t want to have a ‘tomato shape hair’ or look boyish.. (Yes, i’m a vain pot) Hahaha. I would sit on the steps and cry and cry and cry and cry till i was ready to go up. I like my hairstylist now though! :)
He wasn’t sure. He just wasn’t sure. Jessica had assured him, and Jonathen seemed to be pretty much of the same mind as his sister. But Alfred just wasn’t sure…
“Perhaps another proffesion would be more rewarding? Perhaps I could be a barber!”
“No, Mister Pennyworth” sighed the twins in unison. “You must be a butler.”
cuts hair. little pieces, unless longer, but it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of the universe. It falls to the ground….the floor. A door on the floor to another dimension. scissors are a tool of deception and character transformation. Love to let you change.
it is a man that shaves people and cuts their hair, it is an old profession, not so popular today, there is an opera about a barber who is from seville, written by mozart, today sometimes butlers do their jobs for very rich people
if you think about it, i’m kinda a ‘barber’ or hair stylist. which ever you prefer. I cut hair. not for money or anything. but when i was younger my father taught me how to cut hair so that i could cut his and my siblings hair. now i cut my friends and other family members hair as well.
The barber staggered down the street unsure if what he was seeing was real or if he was just having a very, very bad dream. No, it was real. When he swept his hand across his scalp to push his hair back and realized that most of his hair came with his hand, he knew this was as real as it gets. A bald barber and no scissors in his hand, what an irony he thought.
Many may find it amusing that any trip I make to the barber’s is fraught with distress and terror.
Not that the terror is the “Sweeney Todd” kind. Although that may be amusing, I do not have an irrational fear of having myself turned into delicious pastries every time I go get my haircut.
No, it is the inevitable disfiguration of my hair that brings so much fear to me whenever I make my trips to the godforsaken barbershop.
it reminds me the cohen’s brother film which is quite good
It’s about life, lose, and destiny
Good one, I recomand it to you who is reading it if you haven’t seen it.
A barber is a person who shapes your head and gives you the look. Once a profession carried by generation , today it has become a prestigious profession
he cut my hair. now i have a bad haircut. It makes me sad, and self-conscious, i wish he had done a better job, really i do. Maybe someday my beautiful long hair will grow back, maybe some day i will be pretty again. but for now, i wil
i don’t remember the first time i went to the barber. a barber is such a stereotypical male profession. i should get a hair cut soon…my hair is all shaggy and scraggly. Oh bla de, oh bla da..life goes on…la la la la life goes on…billo barber
A barber shop is a place where men go to get their hair cut. They usually have a candy-cane striped pole in front of their business. When I was little, I used to love to stand and watch the stripes swirl around the pole while my grandpa got his hair cut.
The barber looked half-crazed. After all, who uses a straight-edge these days?
I haven’t been to a barber in a long time. A girl at the dorms at my college cuts my hair every once in a while for $5. Not a bad deal. I usually just get a trim. My dad used to take me to a different barber every month when I was a kid.
The barber snips at his crop and his over grown dreams. Reality wears a new look. Bare, so bare.
The barber tilted his client back in his high backed leather chair and swished his shaving blade on his apron to clear away any debris. This was the part he liked the best when the client was at their most vulnerable.
this barber is not trying to cut my throat. he is not singing. he does not look crazy, and there is actually a smile on his face. he runs the sharp cold metal across my sandpaper cheek and i wonder what would happen if he did cut me. would i feel it right away, the way my wife describes cutting her ankle when shaving her legs? would i feel nothing until he slashed hot water on my face and something to sting out the pain? would there be a scar? something inside me hopes so. maybe my wife would notice the scar on my face, think i’m hideous and leave. maybe i’d stop finding little curly-cues on the shower wall, course and brown on our fake porcelain white. maybe she’d leave me.
The barber cut women’s hair all day – he chatted to them about football, he missed the lads.
I just did this one about 5 min ago… why is it giving it to me again? kinda boring having to write about the same topic twice in a row… Anyway, barber’s cut people’s hair. I think i used to mix it up with the cartoon elephant’s name–Babar.
last time I went to a barber shop was 5 years ago… i don’t like barbers which talk too much and do not know what to do without asking me! that’s it
there used to be a barber down the street. I’m not sure who he was or where he went, but he’s gone now. He used to cut my family’s hair on Saturdays for free, and then mum would wash his clothes for him.
Barbers like to cut hair. One time, I went to visit a barber, and he told me my hair looked like it had just been through the car wash. Crazy right? Like, I don’t even know why he would say that. I love my ghetto ‘fro.
A barber is someone who cuts your hair mainly guys hair though.
He was the last of the singing barbers. As I sat in his chair, he crooned in my ear: grief and love in four-part harmony, though when I looked in the mirror, he was alone. It was the saddest song, and tears rolled down my face, mingling with snips of damp hair. When he was done, he took off the apron and left the shop under the tinkle of a little bell. I’ve never had a haircut since; it grows in silence.
A barber cuts your hair,washes it,dies it colors,and a barber can be a man or woman.
A Barber is like a boys hairstylist. The barber can cut your hair, trim it, dye it, and do weird things with it.
A barber is someone who cuts other people’s hair for a living. Barber’s are good at cutting hair.
A barber is a person that cuts hair. He usually cuts a mans hair. Thats what a barber does.
A barber is were you go to get a hair cut I’ve never been to one my mother cutes my hair so i don’t now much about them.
Red and white spinning poles. long sissors. cutting children’s hair. i remember when my mother and older brother used to go to a lady named Sue Haw. she was from newyork. and I refused to get my hair cut, so I had to sit on the floor and play with the odd collection of toys from their barber shop. To get the toys, I had to go to this old smelly lady and hug her, i think she might have been my mom’s friend, but she was creepy to me, and i would cry when i had to go see her.
It’s someone that cuts your hair it can be a boy or a girl. There’s also another name for it it’s called a hair styliest
My grandpa used to own a barber shop. So yes, that means he was a barber. Everyone went to his barber, not cause there was only two in the whole town. But because, it was where guys could hang out and talk.
a barber is someone who cuts people’s hair. They give different varieties of haircuts and they can give you a professional look. My dad goes to the barber all the time.
A very useful profession. Always hearing the snip snip of the scissors and seeing the final project. So lovely and elegant that nothing can go wrong and there’s one good thing about the day.
When i was younger, i used to visit the barber very unwillingly. After every session i would come back crying because i didn’t want to have a ‘tomato shape hair’ or look boyish.. (Yes, i’m a vain pot) Hahaha. I would sit on the steps and cry and cry and cry and cry till i was ready to go up. I like my hairstylist now though! :)
He wasn’t sure. He just wasn’t sure. Jessica had assured him, and Jonathen seemed to be pretty much of the same mind as his sister. But Alfred just wasn’t sure…
“Perhaps another proffesion would be more rewarding? Perhaps I could be a barber!”
“No, Mister Pennyworth” sighed the twins in unison. “You must be a butler.”
cuts hair. little pieces, unless longer, but it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of the universe. It falls to the ground….the floor. A door on the floor to another dimension. scissors are a tool of deception and character transformation. Love to let you change.
it is a man that shaves people and cuts their hair, it is an old profession, not so popular today, there is an opera about a barber who is from seville, written by mozart, today sometimes butlers do their jobs for very rich people
if you think about it, i’m kinda a ‘barber’ or hair stylist. which ever you prefer. I cut hair. not for money or anything. but when i was younger my father taught me how to cut hair so that i could cut his and my siblings hair. now i cut my friends and other family members hair as well.
The barber staggered down the street unsure if what he was seeing was real or if he was just having a very, very bad dream. No, it was real. When he swept his hand across his scalp to push his hair back and realized that most of his hair came with his hand, he knew this was as real as it gets. A bald barber and no scissors in his hand, what an irony he thought.
once it was that he no more had one head to make better. left it all, went away
until, hairs on heads became so long he HAD to return!
Many may find it amusing that any trip I make to the barber’s is fraught with distress and terror.
Not that the terror is the “Sweeney Todd” kind. Although that may be amusing, I do not have an irrational fear of having myself turned into delicious pastries every time I go get my haircut.
No, it is the inevitable disfiguration of my hair that brings so much fear to me whenever I make my trips to the godforsaken barbershop.
it reminds me the cohen’s brother film which is quite good
It’s about life, lose, and destiny
Good one, I recomand it to you who is reading it if you haven’t seen it.
A barber is a person who shapes your head and gives you the look. Once a profession carried by generation , today it has become a prestigious profession
My husband has the best barber in the whole world
or perhaps his barber has the most handsome client
Either way I am the luckiest girl in the universe
Cutting edge. Losing. The loss for gain. Like a waterfall – cascading locks.
he cut my hair. now i have a bad haircut. It makes me sad, and self-conscious, i wish he had done a better job, really i do. Maybe someday my beautiful long hair will grow back, maybe some day i will be pretty again. but for now, i wil
i don’t remember the first time i went to the barber. a barber is such a stereotypical male profession. i should get a hair cut soon…my hair is all shaggy and scraggly. Oh bla de, oh bla da..life goes on…la la la la life goes on…billo barber
A barber shop is a place where men go to get their hair cut. They usually have a candy-cane striped pole in front of their business. When I was little, I used to love to stand and watch the stripes swirl around the pole while my grandpa got his hair cut.
One who cuts hair, hears gossip, gives opinions, suggests options, makes recommendations BUT THE ONLY THING HE CAN FIX IS HAIR!!!!!!!!
One who cuts hair, hears gossip, gives opinions, suggests options, makes recommendations BUT THE ONLY THONG HE CAN FIX IS HAIR!!!!!!!!
it is very necessary. ı think is a must for me to go there. hair, especialy long one.