I’m Pretty Sure That If I Shaved Off My Eyebrows and Wore a Black Leather Trench Coat, People Would Think That I’m from the Future
I’m pretty sure that if I shaved off my eyebrows and wore a black leather trench coat, people would think that I’m from the future.
I base this assertion on the fact that the last time I shaved my eyebrows and walked around downtown in a leopard-print leotard, people assumed that I was a newcomer to their town. Furthermore, everyone made damn sure to get out of my way.
This was especially true when shopping for groceries, and it didn’t go unnoticed on the subway, either. But even though people made sure to avoid me and were apt to regard me with a certain degree of fear and discomfort, I didn’t yet feel that they regarded me with the sort of awe and reverence more commensurate with a time traveler from the future with no eyebrows, a black leather trench coat and a sawed-off shotgun.
Because I’d also be carrying a sawed-off shotgun. I probably should have mentioned this earlier, but I feel that its importance is secondary to the trench coat and paucity of facial hair.
However, I will admit that the sawed-off shotgun really does complete my time-traveler outfit and secure my authority as a post-apocalyptic renegade bounty hunter. Because yeah, that’s what I would be if I were to come from the future wearing a black leather trench coat and toting a sawed-off shotgun all while sporting a face devoid of any distracting facial hair.
None to worry, however, as I would only act responsibly in my new role as a futuristic bounty hunter. For example I would use this power almost exclusively to get free Oreo Cookie Blizzards from Dairy Queen. Because I expect that the sight of a man with no eyebrows, a black leather trench coat and a sawed-off shotgun would afford me very few questions and requests for payment when ordering a large Oreo Cookie Blizzard in my native language from the future, Xenomobtilian, which consists mostly of a lot of vowels, guttural throat noises and emphatic tonal inflections at the end of sentences.
Just imagine a life of endless free Oreo Cookie Blizzards! Now, I expect that you’re feeling just a little bit jealous for not having though of this idea on your own, but don’t be afraid to live vicariously through my exploits because I intend to chronicle most, if not all of my actions via Instagram and Twitter.
Finally, please don’t think that I’ve rushed into this decision without having carefully thought through all of the consequences and potential downfalls of shaving off my eyebrows and wearing a black leather trench coat while carrying a loaded sawed-off shotgun. Because, yes, it would be loaded, people. Otherwise what the fuck is the point of carrying a sawed-off shotgun?
And do you really think that those limp-wristed cocksuckers at the Dairy Queen are going to give me free Oreo Cookie Blizzards simply because I wave an unlodaded sawed-off shotgun in their face, shaved-off eyebrows and leather trench coat not withstanding? Hell no, they won’t! Those fuckers have chutzpah, I can tell you.
Last time I went in there wearing a floral print dress, a mismatched pair of combat boots and waving a pair of nunchucks to order a Peanut Butter Bash Parfait, those fuckers just stared at me without lifting a finger! Apparently Diary Queen employee training sessions have instilled in them a firm dedication to the Dairy Queen bottom line at the possible expense of their physical safety because you best believe I was waving those nunchucks within inches of their faces.
Therefore I expect that only when confronted with the threat of imminent lethal force will they start doling out $2.60 Oreo Cookie Blizzards for free. Because yes, I would only get the medium size. I am sort of watching my figure, as you no doubt could already tell.