Right, for the dozenth time today, NO I have not had a perm. It's raining. My hair goes extra curly when it rains. It's natural. Leave me alone about it ok, I just got rained on a little bit and was turned into a poodle. Leave me alone or I'll bite you.
Now, tell me, is it wrong that I readjust and plump up my breasts for when the local lipstick lesbian comes around? Is it wrong that her opinion of my perkiness matters more than my husband's? I mean a woman who appreciates women in such completeness would have a higher opinion of a woman's form right? Or am I just being weird?
I'm liking Celebrity Big Brother, but not loving it. They had a much more riotous gang last year. Jermaine Jackson has turned out to be really smart, mild mannered, sweetie. Although he does toss out a lot of "California self-help speak" like he listens to every Dr. Somebody's radio show. It's this kind of "I'm so smart and deep that I can see into your soul, my brother." kind of crap which I find cuts with a friendly edge of condescension I can't tolerate. Then they get in a hurt-huff when you tell them to fuck off. Sit and spin you puffed up pseudo-shrinks, sit and spin.
I'm so lucky there's no Dairy Queen here because I'd totally murder a Peanut Buster Parfait. I like mine with chocolate ice cream and extra fudge. Actually, who needs ice cream.