I love Los Angeles. And nothing feels more LA to me than waiting to cross the street on a sunny Saturday morning in Beverly Hills, about to get my hair cut at a swanky salon by a chick who looks like a young Heather Locklear. It’s the best.However, if I may have a sidebar with all my friends who keep making fun of me on Facebook whenever I check into this place: just keep getting butchered at Supercuts, right after you suck my ass.
