Well, the impossible has happened. Yes, there is a fine frost in Satan's playground and the porkers are caressing the clouds.
My hair is straight.
Some of you may be wondering how such a thing is possible. Trust Monica to convince me of the pursuit's worth and actually allow her to go near my hair with a straightener. Yep, she had at it for about a half-hour, and I thought I would share the results with you.
Behold, and be terrified:
Sexy, no?
Yeah, no.
This one's really frigging funny:
Well there you have it. I honestly don't know what to think. Water will cure it, but for now I have to live without my luxurious curls, and content myself with looking like a filthy hippie.
J-Rock out.