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Sunday, February 27, 2005 oh, grow up The soles of my shoes were full of glass last night. Today, my arms are bruised, and my ribs are a little sore. I guess I was hoping for a black eye, if I was going to get injured. I was going to tell everyone at the beauty parlor that I got in a fight, and that "She had it coming." No black eyes, though, except in the literal sense, because I didn't successfully remove the eight pounds of eye makeup I applied yesterday. There is no justice in the way I always look ten times better the morning after an evening out then I do when I've just spent a half hour carefully tousling my hair and making my eyes look effortlessly smoky. Then I stink like beer and cigarettes and I have to shower and look all cleancut again. No wonder I never score: either I'm sultry or fresh-smelling, but never both at once. Anyway: there was this man? and I saw him walk out on top of a crowd of people, and there he stood and he played his guitar without ceasing until he got bored and walked back onto the stage like a regular dude. That man's name was Guitar Wolf, and this happened at the Ottobar. Then today I had to go to a product knowledge class at work. Ask me about shampoo. Then ask me about motivational cliches. Then ask me about ways to mime "Are they fucking kidding me?" to coworkers across a crowded room without detection. Surely it wasn't written in letters of fire in the air above my head. No one would suspect that I wasn't all concerned about the right products for a given hair type. posted by Frenz | 2/27/2005 09:37:00 PM 0 comments |
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