damn, that sounds funk-ay.
it's not IN my nose, in the traditional sense.
it's in the hole
punched by the tool
used by the girl
who worked at the tattoo parlor
who I paid
to put it there.
so it's in my nose, but not UP my nose.
...and there are no rubber hoses involved.
except for the one I would use to water my garden if,
a.) I had a garden, and
b.) I had no automatic sprinkling system.
wow, that sure spiralled out of control quickly, didn't it??
what I was going to say was this:
that you lived next door,
so I could walk over
and knock on your door
until you answered,
and if you didn't answer,
I would find a window to climb through
and I would walk up to you
and ask you
but I'm not
so I can't,
and I won't.
even though I would if I could.
my hair looks great today.
minus the brownish ash-blonde-ish roots.
that are at least an inch long.
I love that my hair grows fast,
but I'm far too lazy and/or un-focused for such things as dyeing one's hair every 4 weeks.
yes, it grows an inch a month.
stupid fucking hair.
why couldn't you have just grown black??
it would have been far more convenient,
and as it turns out, I look much better this way.
stupid mother nature.
oh, and while we're on the subject of "my life in the bathroom"--
(no, not like that!)
well, kinda like that...
I'm a huge fan of the Nair line of products,
for certain specific needs...
but today's venture did not really go so well.
there are rogue patches of hair that just don't appear to have been affected.
I think I didn't leave it on long enough,
but since I don't have a fucking TIMER in my bathroom,
(nor the foresight to bring one from the kitchen before slathering the shit on...)
it's a guesswork thing, and I'd rather go too little than too long,
so I must have undershot the mark.
am I really talking about this???
well, at least it's friday.
so hopefully no one will read it...