A guy who purposefully gave me a bad haircut in high school just hit me up on Facebook. Guess what? He's bald! You mess with mine, you end up losing yours.
At the time I thought he just wasn't as good as he thought about cutting hair. Years later, he confessed that he did it on purpose because he secretly hated me. I'm going to enjoy the irony/punishment for five minutes, then I will revert back to considering him forgiven. Hey, at least he owned up to it. He didn't have to. I would've never known it was on purpose if he didn't tell me.
I never care if people hate me. But am always perplexed as to why so many people volunteer me the information that they used to despise me. If I had a nickel for every time I've heard, "Man, when I first met you, I hated your guts. And I stayed that way for years!" Quit telling me that - you don't have to! I'm not bright enough to figure it out on my own.
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