artesty
Ron Artest’s offseason has been rife with incidents of extreme internet entertainment such as publicly breaking up with his ‘twitter girlfriend’, musing about only eating chickens that are ‘female’, dressing up his cheeseburgers in purple thongs and leaving people personalized voicemails of their choosing. But now Ron would like to address a very serious matter; his hate for perms of all forms.

Artest and twitter were made for each like sardines and little tin cans and he’s used it brilliantly to connect with fans, misspell words like mistake (miss steak), talk about the homosexual raccoons he saw making out in his backyard and muse on everything and anything on his mind. Last night it was perms. Specifically, how much he hated them. I will now proceed with attempting to string together Ron’s jumble of tweets into a coherent paragraph.

Help me put a stop to perms. Killing black girls hair. Come on parents. No more perm. Why do parents put perms in there kids hair when they know it will kill the length of the little girls hair. I argue with my wife if she puts perm in my kids hair. Wigs are fine But black girls and perms is a no no. And parents know this. Please stop stop stop. I got in a argument wit wife She tried to use perm But now no one can use perm. No perms for the summer No perms Straight irons Hot combs. Once u get out of pool hot comb or something Anything but the perm. My name for the rest of this month “No Perm Ron”. -RONARTESTCOM

As I am not a woman, I unfortunately know nothing about perms so I will let wikipedia take the lead on this one. It says, “A permanent wave, commonly called a perm, is the chemical and/or thermal treatment of hair to produce waves, curls or straight hair.” And, because Ron is Ron, he did not really explain WHY he hates perms besides stating that they ‘kill the hair of black girls’. Because I have no scientific evidence to refute this data, I have no choice but to agree with Ron. Why don’t you call me No Perm Shakey.

So if you’re out there on the internet with a perm in your hair, please stop in the name of Artest. He’s just trying to look out for you, like a slightly concussed shepherd over a flock of self-dependent sheep. Shine on you crazy diamond.