If I’m singing a song about clipper burn, don’t start tossing in lines about anal gland expression.
Don’t ever ask me if I want that bagel for free. Of course I want that bagel for free. Free bagel!
If my nose is infected again, I’m not just going to tell you that it’s infected. I’m going to take a photo of it, and then I’m going to edit the crap out of that photo until it looks like it was taken in 1976, and all of a sudden you can’t tell that my nose is infected. It just looks like I’m tossing up a photo of myself taken during the year I turned six years old. Really. Look! Amateur photo editing can be a ridiculous waste of time, especially when I’m the amateur. (There’s a morning sun in the kitchen, and there’s always a bird when you listen.)
My hair is growing out. I have a strategy! AND, although I’m getting dangerously close to the intersection of Emo Philips and Andy Warhol in the Venn Diagram of Hair Growth, please know that when December comes, everything is going to be all worked out on the outside of my head, which will free me up to tackle the inside!
For the past few evenings, I’ve been taking these:
And combining them to make this:
Clipper burn! Not anal sac!! Clipper burn!!!
(I used to sit on my bedroom floor and listen to this album for hours. I always loved the captain.)