It's been fun mohawk, I've loved you for these past two years. We've had some great times, been to some great shows, got into vicious fights, got stoned off of our asses, but it's time to move on.
You see, when I originally shaved my hair into you, I had no plans of getting a job. I didn't want one, I planned on mooching off of people for the rest of my life. As I've matured however, I've realized that this won't work.
I'd like to keep you and have a job, but I don't think it's possible. I've applied to numerous places these past few years, but after they see my hair they automatically dismiss me. I'm sorry mohawk, but tonight will be our last night together, for you've been sentenced to death by razor. Do not fret, I will not leave you completely behind, for you shall be replaced by liberty spikes when I am not working.
3/16/08 - 6/22/09 RIP