Monday, September 14, 2009
Spare Me, Stick Bitch.
After work on Friday, I went to the hair salon to have my naturally brown hair cut and colored.
While sitting in my hairdresser's chair, I was listening to another hairdresser moan and grumble about her weight and how her size SIX pants were soooo tight and oh my God she felt soooo fat and she had to struggle to get her pants up over her huge size SIX hips and her stomach was soooo big and when was she EVER going to stop gaining weight? And she absolutely had to STOP eating all of those Dunkin Donuts coffee rolls because they were making her soooo fat.
The whole while, I listened.
And, I nodded my head in apparent camaraderie.
And, I seriously visualized myself flat ironing her lips shut. That ought to keep you from sucking down anymore coffee rolls, Skeletor.
A word of advice for all of you stick figures out there that don't want the likes of me bludgeoning your skinny asses with my flat iron, hair dryer, or any other hair product for that matter:
Whenever there are women in your company whose clothing sizes are in the double digits, never complain about how fat and bloated your size SIX ass feels.
You may have worked hard to be that small. Or, you may have been blessed with good metabolism like Skeletor, the Coffee Roll Hairdresser. Either way, we can't relate. So, shut the hell up unless you want us to pick our teeth with one of your chicken bone legs.
Perhaps a little anger management counseling might be in order.