Once upon a time there lived an ugly duckling named Marocharim… no wait, that’s not right…

I always say that if it’s on the Internet, it must be true.  Save for lapses in grammar (“did” = simple past tense, “showed” = simple past tense, proper usage is “the winner did not even show his face,” I’m just saying).

For the past few years, I have made it a reflex action to cover my face with the only thing awesome about my looks: my hair.  It’s not that I got beaten with the ugly stick or anything (I probably was, I wouldn’t know) but I am not photogenic.  As Helga put it, I’ll evolve into a prettier Pokémon.  I mean, take a look at this Flippish screencap from the Philippine Blog Awards last Friday:

Ade is the guy in the brown shirt.  Chrina Cuna of Flippish.com is the woman in #3399CC (or is it #0099CC).  So make out vampire-hands and an outline of what seems to be a human face, that’s me.  Yes, I do not look good.

If I were a teenager with angst issues (I [act like/am] one even if I’m 24, LOL) I’d probably engage in self-mutilation.  I would probably even be a misanthropic derelict and sociopathic malcontent with little regard for people who describe themselves as “simple lang” (who am I kidding, of course I don’t; I think of them in the same way as I do simple things… like intestinal parasites, for example).  Yet here’s where long hair’s awesome:

Thanks, Azrael.  The rockstar/heavy metal awesomeness ended when I realized I could still look like:

Aloysius Snuffleupagus, or…

A variety of black mushrooms.

There’s always Ozzy Osbourne.

“Juxtapositions,” from someone who asked Noynoy Aquino what he thought of people who mocked his hair problem.

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