That's a lie. I've got some words.
The man-bun. It's the hottest coif to hit the male head since the mullet. Really, the man bun is to 2015 what the mullet was to 1971. And certainly, there is zero doubt that the man bun can be a manifestation of searing hotness, if not also searing douche-baggery. If you don't believe me, just check out this slideshow of sexy man bun-bearers.
But now there's a new game in town for those who can't (or don't want to?) grow their own man bun with their fortunately still-functional hair follicles: THE $9.99 CLIP-ON MAN BUN.
Feast--and I mean fucking FEAST--your eyes on this gift from the gods of hirsute, and then immedes bleach your eyeballs, because this shit is wrong, wrong, and more wrong:
Imagine making out with a hipster, reaching your hand behind his head to run your fingers through his thick, lustrous, well-maintained hair---which you can only logically assume is natural in its entirety---and pulling off this dead muskrat! I would laugh until I vomited, and the taste of PBR on his breath probably wouldn't help.
Only one thing can properly honor the hipster clip-on man bun, and of course it's a short limerick composed by O.H.M.:
There once was a hipster with hair
Who did not want his head to be bare
Of a clip-on man bun
He thought it would be fun
And would give his hip style some flair
But this fake, polyester hair lump
Would make anyone with a pulse jump
Right out of their seat
And flee down the street
This could only be dreamed up by Trump.
This is likely the world's worst toupee
And I'll make this quite blunt, if I may:
This round pile of pubes
Will not generate lube
In a single fine lady's vajay.
O.H.M. officially gives the side-eye and slow clap to the inventor of the clip-on man bun. Whoever you are, NEVER CHANGE!