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Isa You Wanna da Herkutt? Justa You Comma Here, Son

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

The hapless Freshman is here again. This time he's beleaguered by barbers. This small talk in pig-Italian is too much for the youngsters.

Our Freshman walks into a barber shop and sits down for a leisurely haircut. "Is you wanna shev" says barber. Ah, small talk, thinks Freshman, and mumbles "Oh sure, sure." "Mepsbe you wanna shempa" queries barber, but the Freshman still in his rut says "Oh sure" again. And so it goes until suddenly the poor boy is immersed in towels scalded scorched and burned. His proud growth of youthful fuzzies is severed from its loving owner.

But such agonies are not enough, he has to pay for it. As our boy comes out of his coma the lewdly grinning villain, a bona fide member of Barbers local hands him the bill, the boy faints. It shouldn't happen to a Freshman.

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