Pichers

I was hanging out here a bit ago, with Taco on my lap, one of the few times he wasn't trying to murder me and everything else around him, and I thought of you, the huddled masses. I was thinking how you must be pining for a picture of lil old me. Oh, the heartbreak! Lo, how you must pine!

Those of you who know me, may be aware that I have given up haircuts for two reasons. First of all, I do, like all fancy people, have a personal stylist. Her name is Shawna, and she is lovely. But, when I left the states, I could not get her to get into the suitcase, and I know that hamster water bottle looked damn refreshing. So she had to stay behind. And her not cutting my hair and making me beautiful is just so... wrong. The second reason is my religious beliefs. You know those religions that say stuff like ' You gotta wear blue underwear' and ' no bathing'? I belong to the no haircut one. Its bitchen!

Anyhoo, I turned on the camera and gazed upon myself.  Really took it all in. Apparently, I style my hair either with a car bomb, or an industrial fan. Long story short, the cat looked disinterested, and I look like a demented Beethoven. In a shirt that has more holes than a necrophiliacs victim in a Japanese movie. So, you may thank me, for sparing you all that. Here is a picture of a puppy instead.

Awww