If Alt-Left Haircuts Could Talk . . .

Our ears would start bleeding

The Alt-Right is ever-so boring with their fuhrer-emulating haircuts—fuhrair, if you will.

On the other side of the political scalp, the Alt-Left likes to spice things up. They have fun with funky looks that their parents hope they’d grow out of—hopefully as they move out of the basement . . . finally. 

Rapper Macklemore and his trademark Hitler Youth hair were recently put on Twitter-blast by tweeters quarrelin’ and queefin’ that the coif spoke, “I’m a Nazi.”

These days the Alt-Left seems to do a lot of talking without actually opening their mouths. Silently holding picket signs scrawled with inane messages, wearing masks while letting their tiny fists express incoherent arguments, and cutting their hair bizarrely as a follicle-based scream against the patriarchy.


If this haircut could talk, it would say: “My favorite color is grey—like the plumes of smoke I dream will one day rise from an incredibly giant bonfire incinerating the entire male species all at once. Why should only men get to have short hair? Come on . . . that’s crazy, right? Feminine beauty is overrated, anyways. A wormhole to distract us from the oppression of our mundane lives. I prefer to be distracted by my cats.”


From my experience, an SJW with a man-bun is the type of guy who’s totally above it—whatever that “it” may be. He’s rockin’ a too cool for school-type persona, like the hip young high school teacher who makes his students call him by his first name . . . in bed.

The only man-bun that gets a pass is the chonmage, the hair of choice for samurais in the 18th century. And they’re all dead so that pass has long-since expired. SJW man-buns are thus unaware that they’re committing the high crime of cultural appropriation


Heed this age-old wisdom: Shorter the bangs, crazier the girl.

Always true. No exceptions.

She did this haircut herself in front of a circus mirror with strobe lights flashing as the sole source of light.

And we’re not saying dating crazy chicks isn’t fun. Just expect drama and Daria reruns on VHS (and on LSD) and drama and mediocre handjobs and drama. 


Shia LaBeouf may feel safe chanting HE WILL NOT DIVIDE US from the relative safety of civilized society, but when the fashion police take him away to Maximum Federal Fashion Correctional Facilties, his cellmate Bubba-Joe might call him a rat and divide his tail.

If this haircut could talk, it would say: “Oh my God, I can’t look down. Look at what your celly’s doing to you! He’s dividing you . . . in half!”


Charles Fletcher

Written by Charles Fletcher

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