White Dudes with Afros are a breed unto their own. The White Boy Afro also has a certain poetry to it. Whether that poetry is from Lord Byron or Nickleback is up to you, dear reader.
Our afroed typist sits alone at his computer contemplating hair products.
Note the messy bed in the background. Messy bed = messy head
Art is Life. Art is Garfunkel. Same Thing.
This afro wants to make a statement. And it succeeds. It states “I no not what I am doing”.
The person with an afro taking a selfie. Unfortunately, not as rare as it once was. He’s also mad about something. Probably the afro.
Our hero in this picture believes himself to be “The Cool One” in his friend group. The Evidence? He is looking at his nails. He is, however, “The One Everyone Kinda Puts Up With”.
This sepia-toned untrimmed halo of an afro positively glows with the healing power of a certain type of hair follicle.
This man is a “footballer”. Imagine his locks swaying on the “pitch”, lustily moving in time to his movements, encouraging the crowd to follow his every move, beckoning defenders into its deadly embrace. Scared? You should be.
Know This: This boy grew up into Conan the Barbarian. Not really, but wouldn’t that be cool? He drives a bus. Or does he?
Unfortunately for this man, it appears his head is being consumed by some sort of unholy follicle monster that is prone to heavy shedding.
I first met this man in 6th grade gym class. He was murder on the dodgeball court. He later became international superstar Bob Dylan. We fell out of touch. He has an afro.
“Look at me!!!!!” this afro screams. LOOK AT ME! I am AFRO! I will do this for a living someday. I also enjoy putting 49 Fruit Gushers into my mouth all at once.
Double Trouble / Squeak and bubble / toil and muddle / Afro Huddle / Brahe and Hubble (to the tune of “Push It”
This Oregon (he pronounces it Ore-a-gone) fan strums that guitar as skillfully as he brushes out his hair. It is an impressive thing to watch. The King of Belgium once observed this ritual for 13 nights straight. He was never the same.
For a second dare to attempt the impossible and try to ignore Jimi Hendrix. Instead try to focus on the lesser beings to his right and left. Once this is done, notice the hair. The loft of their hair perhaps buoyed by Jimi himself. Who can say?
A mischievous comedic actor whom I played opposite in an 11th grade production of “The Odd Couple” has added some playfulness to his fro. A twinkle of levity one might say.
Josh Sussman has never been afraid of the clarinet, which I imagine he plays with a soulful profundity. He might be famous for something else. But it’s probably his life-changing free jazz clarinet solos.
Mr. Hoffman, my understudy in an off-Broadway play entitled “Long Way From The Office” has done remarkable thing in his portrayal of a man unafraid of his hair. The man Hoffman is playing is named Robby.
All Hail the Lord and Savior of White Dude Afros. The Supreme and All-Knowing Master of White Man Afro. BOB ROSS! Bow before him.