So I’m sitting here thinking about Jheri curls. They’re funny.  I love nothing more than to go to someone’s house and see a curl picture.  Great stuff.
Well, everyone I know has a curl story. Some of us–like ME!!!–have other people’s stories, but they’re so funny that we tell them ourselves. In that spirit, I will tell a friend’s Jheri curl story.
(Given the randomness of the post, I find it necessary to assure you that I’m sober.)
My boy–a reader of his site who has to make sure I get this correct–got him a curl when he was about 8. He was lovin’ it. Said his curl was so fresh. In fact, I can picture him as a chubby li’l fella with a curl.
Anyway, said he got the curl, but then he went to swim in the pool. I’m assuming it was the black pool, for the white pool would never let you in with a curl. Gettin’ the water all greasy and thangs (and I’m not sure if all of you are from places with black and white pools, but those who are know exactly what i’m talking about).
Well, my man said he started walking home and didn’t have a care in the world. Until he got in the mirror, that is. His curl had turnt orange.
Most likely, it turnt ernge.