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Oh Cruel World!
By DIG READER
Dear smelly bastard with dreads on the T,
You pulled your iPod out of your dingy pants to change the song, and once your grubby fingers were done clicking the scroll wheel, you looked over at the attractive brunette seated behind the pole near the doors, then over at me and grinned. I gagged a little.
Look, I get it. I know dreadlocks make your "cool" factor jump about 50 points. However, my cool factor functions like golf: the lower the score, the better. And you, smelly bastard, are douching up the entire car with your rank hairdo.
In case you weren't aware, you aren't supposed to completely stop shampooing to get those dreads. They make dread shampoo, but that's not something I'd expect you to know considering you shower about as often as Hugh Hefner actually orgasms. But I appreciate that it's all part of the look—the yellow armpit stains on your shirt; the bounce of your man boobs as you shift your weight; the barbecue sauce you spilled on your jeans two weeks ago and tried to lick off before deciding you couldn't keep your stomach sucked in for that long to try and reach it. It works. Keep it up.
Send your anonymous gripes and grouses to letters@weeklydig.com, or to Dig Department of Gripes, 242 E. Berkeley St., 2nd Flr., Boston, MA 02118. Crybaby.



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