What a difference 24 hours, a ten o'clock run to Wendy's, freaking the fuck out, doggie kisses and a brand new EXTREMELY goddamn expensive blow dryer make.
Feeling a little better. Still screwed. But the kind of screwed where you know your ass will stop bleeding sometime and maybe next time you won't get so drunk you know?
Perhaps that metaphor doesn't actually work.
That new blow dryer sure makes my hair soft and shiny though. I considered taking it back but J threw out my old one and now it has been in a can with a rotting lemon and raccoon manure so I guess the really expensive fucker is staying.
Can y'all tell I just love my camera? I mean that picture has nothing to do with anything at all.