Always thought it was a unibrow.

Whatever his name is, that is one impressive unibrow [swoon]

*engineering *unibrow

*comedy
*howto

*Unibrow

Your video, Unibrow Discrimination- Social Experiment, has made it into the Top 15 New Videos listing. Congratulations on your achievement. For your contribution you have been awarded 1 Power Point.

you had me at unibrow dance

*promote The Unibrow Dance!
*fail
*FTW

I probably agree with him on everything. Except for the unibrow decision.

have you ever had your eyebrows waxed? shit fucking hurts. especially if you're 5 and don't understand why it's even happening.
not to mention the psychological message that shit sends to your developing 5 year old girl brain.

my daughters rocking a unibrow. i decided i'd tell her about waxing the day she cried because some jerks made fun of it and let her chose if she wanted to do it. thankfully, i've raised a bad ass secure little girl who who just thinks people who make fun of other people have either watched too much tv and are missing several heart and brain cells or have parents who are mean to them and other people. so when she gets made fun of she's just kind of like "....... really??".

i hope she stays that secure and never ever ever waxes that shit off.

also, i wonder what the emotional fortitude and personal security of a little girl who's been waxed and teased and permed and crammed in ridiculous outfits and forced to dance to be told she's beautiful, looks like.

>> ^joedirt:

Mother shaves 5 year old boys head! CHILD ABUSE!
Mother puts daughters hair in dreadlocks! CHILD ABUSE!
GTFO this is such fictional outrage.

Yeah but what if you've got a unibrow?

>> ^legacy0100:
This is the first time that my eyes actually tore away from the food being showed to look at something else.
That lady looked like a man!! A MAN with red ruse on his lips!!! AGHH!!!!


I was about to say that for a unibrowed dog your standards are pretty high, but then I saw what you meant at ~2:35. And now you may refer to my avatar for all you need to know.

Allright, here´s a long story for your entertainment and pleasure:

Two years ago I'm walking back from a friend´s place in Brooklyn.
When I'm under the Williamsburgh bridge I see two guys maybe 20 mts behind me. I didn't think it would be anything, like, just people on the street.
Still, a sixth sense makes me walk as fast as I can, which is not much due to a motorcycle disaster that happened exactly six months before that night, and there is a bunch of titanium here and there.

As I approach the door on the place where I'm staying, a B&B called The Guest House, I'm faced with a dillema of which lock to try first, the multi-lock or the knob lock. As sometimes the multi is not locked, I go for the knob first. Doesnt work and the two guys corner me by the door.

They were both black, light skinned and nearly stereotypically dressed in oversized basketball clothes, one has a doorag and the other a unibrow.

The first one shows me a gun and say in a manner that is not encouraging:
"DONT TURN THIS INTO A HOMICIDE"
To which i reply
"YOU dont turn this into a homicide!"
He shouts "OPEN the door!"

As if I wasn't scared enough I get this feeling that once inside the situation would escalate. They would be in there, with a gun, no hurry, and could rape, kill, rob and who knows what. Plus if someone sees them getting in and call the police I'd be in a hostage situation.

So the guy shouts again OPEN THE DOOR
and stalling for time I reply "please don't hurt me", exaggerating a fear that was there anyway.
He takes the keys from my hands and tries to open the door himself. He doesn't manage.

He point the gun at me and now he is angry.
"OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR NOW!!!!!"
To which my big mouth replies "you have the keys, man, just open the door!"
He tries a bit more, the other guy takes my wallet and phone from my pockets.
As I´m turned to the guy opening the door the other one hits me in the face so hard that I had a hard time eating for months.
I didn't see it coming so i couldn't even flinch, full hit.
As I get a hold of myself they are gone.

I stay five minutes without moving and then I get in.
I tried to see if there is anyone at home but no one answers. I call the house cat but the cat doesn't come. Some cat therapy would have been nice at that point. I go to my room and (luckily) only then I start suffering from delayed courage, and decide to go out. I changed my red shirt into a black one, put my wolverine coat, hand making in my pocket making a "menacing" volume and go out to search for discarded items. The logic is, if they see me out again with a volume in my pocket they would think I'm crazy and might have a gun. I soon realize the fragility of my logic, as well as my own and go back inside. I cant sleep. I sit in the bed until sunrise and sleep dressed for two hours.

Then I called the police. Police officers like to chitchat. "Oh, many stamps in your passport. you travel a lot. You travel Varig? I used to refuel varig airplanes before becoming a cop." After they leave I go to work. I repeat the route from the previous night and I find my phone. I cancelled the credit cards so pretty much I got beaten up for ten dollars.

Later that day the police calls and make me go to the precinct. I was surprised that they like to play good cop bad cop with the victim too.

angry cop: why you called this morning instead of last night!?
me: I had no phone and was really shaken by the experience! sorry!
Calm cop: it's ok, no big deal
angry cop: did you drink? Were you drinking?
me: I drank some wine but was fine!!!
calm cop: hey, thats fine.

And after that they hold me for hours while I look at mugshots on a computer screen that displays six pictures at a time, takes a minute to load the next six, and had a lot of repeated pictures. I Do not believe in anthropometry, but boy those people were ugly. I wonder if they were so ugly they couldn't get a job and resorted to crime. Or maybe good-looking criminals get arrested less often?

I ask the detective what were the chances of me actually being shot there.
He says: "well, we have around five fatal shootings a year in that neighborhood."
That´s probably what we have in a single DAY in Sao Paulo and I was never mugged there. On the other hand it means one fatal shooting every two months, so it could very well have been my turn.

The detective then says "I'd say you had a 50-50 chance of being shot. If you reacted and the gun was real (and wouldn't it be real, in THIS country?) they would likely shoot me. So I´m glad about the delayed courage and the delayed strategy of wrestling for the gun and kick the living shit out of them.

I have to say it was a bit humiliating being robbed in NY, like being a statistical oddity.

I sure was a bright kid back then, even when drunk. Handsome too.

That unibrow still gets me all kinds of chicks. So does the sexy voice. Like moths to the flame, baby, moths to the flame.

Actually in '92 I was too young to vote. I did support Clinton, but all I knew about him was from watching the debates. He was the only one who was actually answering the questions, and giving specifics instead of generalities.

The pot smoking thing seemed kinda cool to me too.

Mostly I remember how little it mattered to me who the President was. Back then, with the Cold War seeming all but over, it just didn't seem to me that there were problems in the world that could compare with my need to a) get a car, and b) get laid.

I figured whoever it was, they probably wouldn't screw things up too bad.

Several things of note:

1) That is the most insane unibrow I have ever seen in my entire life.
2) MGR actually looks like a skinny version of Monsieur Unibrow.
3) What I can only imagine is intended to be Netrunner actually predicts things that Clinton actually did.
4) Is it me or does Netrunner sound like the guy from the Goonies?