The hair-fucken-stylist below my apartment completely fucked up my hair 2 days ago.
I told her I wanted to trim my fringe, she cut it ram rod straight.
My father said I look like an obese cleopetra.
So my mother, bless her kind soul, brought me to HER stylist to rectify the catastrophe.
Now!
Auntie Lina has been her stylist for 20 years.
Needless to say, she's still stuck in the 1970s, where fashion went completely wrong.
I should have followed my gut instincts and told mom no.
She layered the clump,
snipped it shorter,
and by God! I'm worse off then when I began.
Please refrain from laughing when I do see you.
My fragile ego cannot take much more.
I told her I wanted to trim my fringe, she cut it ram rod straight.
My father said I look like an obese cleopetra.
So my mother, bless her kind soul, brought me to HER stylist to rectify the catastrophe.
Now!
Auntie Lina has been her stylist for 20 years.
Needless to say, she's still stuck in the 1970s, where fashion went completely wrong.
I should have followed my gut instincts and told mom no.
She layered the clump,
snipped it shorter,
and by God! I'm worse off then when I began.
Please refrain from laughing when I do see you.
My fragile ego cannot take much more.