Hog on the Run

Saturday, March 05, 2005

Updates

I am attempting to right the wrong that is my hair. Currently, I am sitting here with my head oozing "non-drip gel colourant", patiently removing said non-drips from my forehead before they turn my skin blue. I feel like Adrian Mole painting his bedroom black - "bloody purple still showing through!". Doubtless the backs of my ears are now a cracking shade of Celtic Woad. Why do I bother? Vanity, thy name is Okapi.

Also, I had to answer the door this morning to one of Sidekick's mates, who wanted to borrow the mothership. And me having barely moved from my pit.
  • Hair like straw, flying in all directions as if caught in its own personal tornado? Check.
  • Unshaven hairy legs protruding from the bottom of shapeless dressing gown? Check.
  • Face that needs a good ironing? Check.
  • Too much coffee style morning jitters? Check.
  • Inability to understand much of what he said on account of not being conscious? Check.
Wow. I bet he was impressed.

Bugger. Update on the update.

He just came back to return the keys. He's seen all my best sides this morning. Fuckity fuck. At least I had pyjamas to cover the rainforest that is my Winter legs. On the other hand: Hey: What? What?!? WHAT!?!?!

P.S. Blogger spellcheck wants me to replace "Fuckity fuck" with "Bucket Fuji". Nice one, but no cigar.

6 Comments:

I am glad I am not the only one. You remind me of me.....
Once i dyed my hair a shade of "brunette" that ended up being purple. The next day I had to go to a book club meeting, that, unbeknownst to me, was at the Icelandic Ambassador's house, hosted by the Ambassador's wife. I showed up with purple hair, tattered black sweater, black long peasant skirt, flip flop sandals and my favorite bright blue toe nail polish. To the ambassador's house. Where she served a formal tea on 200 year old china, in the dining room with the Aubusson carpet and art on loan from the Icelandic national Gallery. And there I was, looking like a Goth Peasant Servant. Very embarrassing.
Well, bucket fuji - somebody took my advice for once. Now your life will be one pleasant interlude after another. :)
Good luck with that.
With my new terrifyingly black (it said brown on the packet, godammit) I too now look like Marilyn Manson's serving wench. I'm having no luck, but I'm looking forward to the pleasant interludes. When would they start, exactly?
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