You Can Take My Roots, But You Cant Take My Freedom

Today I decided to pop to the hairdresser to get some Blue Black Gothness back on (damn you brown Chipmunk roots). In the process, I think I might have offended a hairdresser by rebuking the silly 'women magazines' he was trying to offer me with the outrageous words 'No, Thanks'. Yes, that is right, dude looked like I twerked naked to Black Sabbath when I declined.

Umpf. People.

Anyway...in the pile of papery hygienic towels called 'womens magazine', I managed to dig out a GQ magazine... And I stumbled upon this Conor McGregor gem :

What can I say?This is freaking awesome. I have had the chance of experiencing this feeling of total freedom a few times, and it is absolutely glorious. Reading this reminded me to practice detachment furthermore and get back to this righteous feeling of freedom. And I am not talking about dancing naked to AC/DC's Back in Black.

PS: The hair in the pic is NOT pubic hair. The hair in the pic is NOT pubic hair. The hair in the pic is NOT pubic hair. The hair in the pic is NOT pubic hair. The hair in the pic is NOOOOOOOT pubic hair.

Well I bloody hope so. Lol.