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Trisha the Trichster in …
Posted on Friday, February 28 @ 17:41:25 GMT by Neomie |
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Relationship Transplant.
I’ve been thinking of going for one of those hair transplants : You know the ones that use the hair from one part of your body and transplant it somewhere else? Trouble is there’s not a hair left on my bod that isn’t weakened by pulling and plucking or half way through the regrowth cycle.
Wanted : surrogate gorilla for hair transplant purposes, or if that fails there’s always my plot to kidnap Tom Jones. I mean what IS it about Tom Jones? Sex Bomb? I’ve never seen a better case for a real bomb in my life. What’s the deal with women throwing their knickers at him? Believe me it would save a lot of eyesore if they just threw hair remover cream at that chest of his.
I don’t go for the hairy male look. Maybe that’s it … Maybe that’s why I pluck myself within an inch of my life : maybe I actually like the shiny smooth look … possibly the steroid-pumped well-oiled muscles of The Chippendales. Hmmm yeah.
No. I’m off men.
I’m not quite sure when the warning bells would have started sounding for anyone with a bit of self respect … maybe when he left his dirty washing on my doorstep with a note saying “See you at six, and don’t use starch on the collars” on the morning before our first date, but Nick and I were nearly definitely over. That’s until I spoke to my mum on the phone.
Remember the first time you fell in love? I do. It was in the Mall. My heart shot out of my chest, my breath was constricted more tightly than Jordan’s breasts in a corset … as my eyes focused and zoomed in on the object of my lust …. a pair of soft pink kitten heels.
I’ve had spendaholic tendencies ever since. My obsession with finding the right pair of kitten heels is only surpassed by my obsession with finding the right hair root.
Still … it is better than my mother’s obsession with finding me a man other than Nick.
Bloody phone. Bloody mother. “You’re coming for dinner on Saturday with your other boyfriend. Not Nick.”
“Mum, you know I don’t have another boyfriend”.
“You do now. I’ve arranged everything. Just be there and wear some hair.”
I can iron a mean shirt. Is there a trichster in the Outer Hebrides who wants a lodger?
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Article Rating
Average Score: 3.66
Votes: 3
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Re: Trisha the Trichster in … (Score: 1)
by bald-eyed-betty on Thursday, September 18 @ 13:18:45 BST
(User Info | Send a Message) | Dude.....the first time I fell in love it was over a girl with ice skates. I remember angrily trying to balance on ice skates, thinking, dammit, how does that little vixen DO it? Hey, are a lot of trichsters gay or bi? Just wondering, I noticed on your little questionnaire there. Weird that I'm randomly bi, and no one in my family or any of my close friends are, let alone approve. Also, what's up with trichster's moms? They're totally crazy.
Anyhoo, you're a good writer, I can tell that much, I thought you were just a trich researcher with a web site and a bunch of CDs. I love writing, will probably never end up being a writer because, as we all know, trichsters never have the guts to sit down and do what they know is naturally good for them. Hahaha. That's supposed to be an inside joke of some sorts.
Okay, I'll keep reading your articles for now, I'm drinking a lot of "red wine" as your "John Kender Diet" suggests....woo hooo! |
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