So I had about 12 vodkas, and danced like a dick, and had shit hair because of the rain, but didn't care because of the booze, and watched my co-workers grinding on eachothers legs, and took somebody home, but she was a girl and we're both heterosexual and she slept on the couch, and I made a million promises I won't keep, and it was fun.
This has nothing to do with anything, but every time I wear my hair down, somebody says, "wow, I like your hair that colour." Yeah, mate. God did an alright job there. It's not in a pony tail, so it must be a different colour? What the hell? Could somebody explain, please? Should I be including pictures?
Today, I saw Memoirs of a Geisha, and it wasn't bad. I could start ranting here, but it would only make sense to people who've read the book and seen the movie, and I can't be arsed. So I won't.
Dude. I'm tired.
This has nothing to do with anything, but every time I wear my hair down, somebody says, "wow, I like your hair that colour." Yeah, mate. God did an alright job there. It's not in a pony tail, so it must be a different colour? What the hell? Could somebody explain, please? Should I be including pictures?
Today, I saw Memoirs of a Geisha, and it wasn't bad. I could start ranting here, but it would only make sense to people who've read the book and seen the movie, and I can't be arsed. So I won't.
Dude. I'm tired.
posted by GBE at 7:38 pm
1 Comments:
I normally say that my pony tail is my safeguard against uncooperative-and-bastardly-hair days, but your explanation sounds so much better...
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