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Up with Johnson!

OK, this has only been nearly 3 fucking years coming but I finally found a new person to do my do. And let me just say for the record that my do? Yeah, not so complicated. I just need it cut with layers put in there properly and to have my thick mop thinned out a bit lest I look like a shrub. I was at a loss for all this time because my hair chick’s place of biz got burned by assholeslooters during Katrina so I was without a person to something about my mop.

I made such a rookie mistake. With the exception of ONE haircut at a lovely boutiquey type place that I could ill afford, I made do with cheap ass places. Ya know why they are so cheap? Because these bitches go to “Haircutting Online College.” Idiots. The whole lot of them. My hair is NOT complex. Any of you that have seen it are probably floored that a professional cuts it anyway being as more often than not, it looks as though I probably just hack away with cuticle scissors since I do not follow through with the every 6-8 week rule of going back for touch ups.

Well, once her place was back up and running, my hair bitch did not return. WTF? I was not pleased with this at all. So I hemmed and hawed some more and finally, this past weekend I went in there and just had them put me with anyone. I figured these people had to have more knowledge that my online educated cutters did, so it could not get much worse.

Enter Johnson.

If he were not gay and moderately good looking, I’d have dry humped him behind the shampooing station. He was that fabulous. As he was cutting my hair and commenting on the thickness, he goes “I don’t get what they did here.”

Yeah, no shit, Johnson. Keep cutting, honey.

Anyways, if he ever leaves this place, I will hunt his ass down and force him to move in with us and be my professional hair guru. He spent FOREVER on my mop and I left with normal looking hair with considerably less weight on my head. (If only so easy for my ass…..sigh.)

So that was one lovely highlight of my weekend. The other was shopping for maternity clothes. Dude. That was hilarious. I won’t go into how me and my ginormous breasticles got stuck in a dress and I had to call my MOTHER in to come do the unclothing-a-small-child-over-the-head maneuver. However, I did find something appropriate to wear to the boy’s graduation and also some of the most comfiest maternity shorts ever and I do believe I’ll keep them and wear them to Hooters because under a longish shirt, no one would know and then I could eat my hubs under the table and impress him with my abilities.

It really is a mystery that more men weren’t beating my door down huh?

We also had our first dip in the pool this weekend. So nice. The pool. Not the weather. It’s starting to enter the suckage phase. Ugh. I loathe the summer here. Truly. It’s only slightly better than the various circles of hell.

Another little thing is I look pregnant which is nice. I’m sure people saw me and were like “She has really GOTTA put the Cheetos down….Jesus.” I got so thick. I am hardly a petite flower anyway but any semblance of waist I had was gone, baby, gone. Now it pooches out instead of just continuing to make me feel perpetually full or like I had tires around my waist. Hence the need for clothes. Any clothes I have that need to um, be buttoned? Yeah not so much. It’s all drawstring all the time and maternity.

Two more weeks and then I get more blood drawn. So thrilled. Then later in the month, we get the biggie u/s and see if the little fuckerbundle of joy cooperates and allows us to see boy parts or girl parts. I had really strong feelings of a girl initially but those faded and now I have no clue. I absolutely want to know though. There is too much crap to buy to have everything being neutral colors. I generally feel pretty darn good and the rampant all day fatigue is gone as is the morning sickness. At night though, I fall into such a dead sleep that is full of the oddest dreams I have ever had. I mean I love Terry Bradshaw to pieces but why is he in my dream? (Again, just google him and behold the baldness but I heart him so refrain from shitty comments or I’ll fucking cut you.)

Well, work is still waiting and I have yet to figure out how to get Gage to type, so it must be done. Really, at what point are he and Reba going to start to earn their keep? It’s really rude – the constant me, me, me aspects of their personalities. There is only room for one pain in the ass in this house.

And that? Would be me.


8 Responses

  1. That is exactly why I drive almost an HOUR to see Valeri. Not only is she a friend, she is the only person I trust to do my hair. I’m gonna need to see some maternity pics! I had no idea you were showing. That’s so exciting! I love pregnant dreams. They crack me up. Sometimes I wonder what on earth is going through those heads of ours. Never had one with Terry Bradshaw though. Was he still funny in your dream?

  2. I love me some good gay hairdressers. I’m driving about an hour out of my way to get my do done.

  3. Wear that belly proudly chick – you earned it! Ross has some cute maternity stuff and reasonable too.

  4. I love gay man hairdressers. Oh yes..the bestestestest.

  5. I need a new hairdresser. Yeah, last one to hack my hair, didn’t even graduate from the online school of hair cuttery. I was the dumbass who didn’t leave though.

  6. A good hair dresser is always worth the drive- just factor gas into the cost plus entertainment value and it is money well spent.

    Dream Big!!

  7. Oh the hair cutting woes. With 10 moves around the country under my belt it’s an ongoing headache. I found ONE PERSON in 20 years that I loved the cut. I went back about 2 months later and she was GONE.

    Tried a couple more and after a bit got lucky and found ONE MORE PERSON that could cut hair – not only my thick wavy masses but my daughters and sons… all perfect. And guess what?

    She is studying to be a dental hygienist and is graduating and leaving in August.


    Now that you found Johnson you might have to hire him as a full time Nanny to live with you AND cut your hair just to make sure you keep him.

  8. So I don’t know where the hell my comments go. But I guess the vortex sucks them up.

    A haircut by someone who’s actually done hair before. New concept. My last one. Good fucking lord. I still cry.

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