Mr. Ray and His Hair Weaves...

Consider this us reaching out. We've been rockin' the same Jerri Curl for the last twenty years and as much trim as it's brought us, we've been looking to maybe update to a sweet fade or a tight weave or something. We've searched high and low and we can't seem to find anybody that's able to slap one of those satellite-shaped weaves on our head, and even worse, we called our ol' boy Ray who used to be our go-to when it came to a night of turnin' bitches out and making inappropriate sexual comments to unsuspecting white girls, but his old number is gone, along with the free consultations he used to provide. This is really all kinds of unfortunate because sitting around having our curlys weaved in and brushed through with motor oil was one of our only refuges from the daily rigors of getting up at noon, smoking weed, sitting on the steps, and avoiding creditors. It was also a helpful way to avoid process servers and recognizance orders, but we can just hide in our white chick's basement for that, so it's not a total loss. Plus, she makes a mean Kraft Dinner and we've yet to see a bill with our name on it, so, shit's apparently on the up and up right now.