Coughs and cuts...
Another sick day at home today. Man, there's 4 people, including me, from my group on MC today. Something nasty must be doing the rounds. Oink... hope not.
Given that this week is a big week with Dawn and Bev's wedding, I really hope that I recover in short order so that I can have my drinking shoes on by Friday (and drinking shirt, hat, pants, G, etc...)
Another point to note, when the hell will I ever learn NOT to get a damn haircut right when I can afford to have dicked up hair the least. Hunted around Holland V for the cheapest haircut place I could find whilst I was waiting for my number to be called by the doctor. 11 people waiting in front of me so I had plenty of time.
Quick cuts was still closed, so I ended up at this place on Level 2 about Cold Storage with Jabba the fricken' Hutt as my hair dresser. With the benefit of 20/20 hindsight, having a hairdresser that was fat, slovenly, unshaved, and a year overdue for a haircut was probably not the wisest. I blame whatever illness I have for my spidey sense not firing up. Also possibly the fact that this place was $10 cheaper than all the other places :P
Anyway, I don't even know why I bother saying "Just a tidy up the back and sides" anymore. Every time I do, they seem to just raze my head the way the like it anyway. Feckers.... Maybe I just subconsciously love the drama of having a bad haircut... who the hell knows. Either way, I never get what I ask for.
I think I'll just give up trying to grow my floppy hair back out... those long locks of my days of old are just doomed to never happen again.
Given that this week is a big week with Dawn and Bev's wedding, I really hope that I recover in short order so that I can have my drinking shoes on by Friday (and drinking shirt, hat, pants, G, etc...)
Another point to note, when the hell will I ever learn NOT to get a damn haircut right when I can afford to have dicked up hair the least. Hunted around Holland V for the cheapest haircut place I could find whilst I was waiting for my number to be called by the doctor. 11 people waiting in front of me so I had plenty of time.
Quick cuts was still closed, so I ended up at this place on Level 2 about Cold Storage with Jabba the fricken' Hutt as my hair dresser. With the benefit of 20/20 hindsight, having a hairdresser that was fat, slovenly, unshaved, and a year overdue for a haircut was probably not the wisest. I blame whatever illness I have for my spidey sense not firing up. Also possibly the fact that this place was $10 cheaper than all the other places :P
Anyway, I don't even know why I bother saying "Just a tidy up the back and sides" anymore. Every time I do, they seem to just raze my head the way the like it anyway. Feckers.... Maybe I just subconsciously love the drama of having a bad haircut... who the hell knows. Either way, I never get what I ask for.
I think I'll just give up trying to grow my floppy hair back out... those long locks of my days of old are just doomed to never happen again.