Tuesday, April 21, 2009

And She Told Two Friends...

Hold the presses. Newsflash! I'm gonna have to stop traffic again. Hunter has gone high maintenance. At least for a couple days. You can lead a horse to water man but you can't teach it to flat iron it's own mane. 
Today she pissed away the rest of that tax return. She went all girl on me and got her toes polished and then went so far as to get her hair done. It wasn't easy I'm told. Jay (her friends brother that used to peep at her when she was 16) had to use about 20 different processes on her weathered, sun bleached, unkempt hair. Let me tell you, up until about six months ago Hunter had the most gorgeous hair you have ever seen. It was about 6 feet long, never touched by color and thick as thieves. Somebody decided to do her a "favor" and chop it all off. Poor Hunter, she was her hair. Her hair was her. She has had that hair since we were about 12 years old. So for the last six months while she battled her way through the end of her divorce and moved her life 903 miles away (which I am forever thankful for) she has had to deal with looking different too. 
As stated above not only did she get her hair done, she got a pedicure. Holy Shit, I just got yelled at about that from her a couple days ago. "Sarah, you're going to have to do your own toes soon." That's just stupid. I'm glad she's seen the light. At least for today.
Now she just walked in my house with a bag of products. Yes! Products. What's next? Will she drive like she owns the road? 
No, that will never happen. She will continue on her hippie life style. She'll just do it with better hair. 
All day.
Next on the agenda is walking in heels. 
Baby steps.


  1. Damn. Shit. Fuck, man.

    I just can't decide which of you two I like better. I reckon I just won't decide.

    How's that for a conundrum?

  2. An enigma wrapped in a mystery.

  3. Oohhh....I like that one.

    Can I steal that for my Epitaph?

  4. What's ours is yours.. and it's not even really ours. Take it!

    It's better than:

    Well I dont know what Ive been told
    You never slow down, you never grow old
    Im tired of screwing up, Im tired of goin down
    Im tired of myself, Im tired of this town
    Oh my my, oh hell yes
    Honey put on that party dress
    Buy me a drink, sing me a song,
    Take me as I come cause I cant stay l

  5. Ah...good 'ol Tom.

    One of my Favorites. But, he has one fatal flaw in that story.

    There is, really, no Last dance.

    It goes on, and on, and on.....