I’m wearing my hair in a low bun and it’s like the most irritating thing ever and if you’re ever near me and I say “I might wear a low bun today” just either a) kick me in the shin or b) put me in the bin whichever’s most convenient don’t want to put you out or anything
curtain call/backgammon tournament/assignment avoiding/satay/mosquito coils/mike/lobbyists/squats
I was in a fantastic mood today, and now I’m in a terrible mood, and it’s the same people every time, yet cutting that aspect of my life away is too great to bear and basically I just want to eat a thousand burgers but without all the stuff that traditionally makes it a burger it just tastes like a warmed-up sandwich and that is what you might call “less than satisfying”. Also I’m supposed to have written a bazillion more words than I have and I just want to sleep. There is too much going on for me to think about anything that isn’t chocolate bavarian.
People tend to ask me quite frequently about the “secret” to having my hair this long.
Basically the “secret” is that I just got quoted $110 for a trim. A trim. Like, ten centimetres off the end. One hundred and ten dollars. That’s the secret. I am cheap as shit.
Two trips is for sissies and people who aren’t prepared to chase their breadstick down a hill into oncoming traffic.