God, it’s even worse at high resolution: my head is dented, y’all. Look at that shit!

Anyway, the thought shave off your mustache has been floating through my head for so long and at such high volume that it damn near qualifies as a clinically intrusive thought at this point and this morning I lost the battle. Fuck it, even if I hate it it’ll grow back in two weeks anyway, and it’s summertime, and I’ll just make a joke about it and tell everyone to call me Amos for a while, right?

Except I think I like it. I like it a little more with some stubble, and I might let it come back to, like, a one on my clippers, but I was expecting to immediately regret my mistake and spend the next two weeks hiding from society. Which, hell, I was gonna do that anyway, so whatever– but now every time somebody sees me they’re suggesting a different bright color I should dye it. The boy is partial to magenta; others have suggested pink; I’m thinking green or blue.

What say you, Internet? How else shall I humiliate myself before school starts?

(Oh, and my class lists came out today, and there are currently thirty-four kids in my honors Algebra class, and … I’m ’bout to have two Algebra classes again, because that’s not gonna work, so I’m looking forward to starting a fight about it.)