Twitter is currently a big fucking whale of annoyance and so I cannot tweet to the world the mass panic that is occurring in my life as we speak.
Today Boyfriend came home from work with a bag full of goodies. Canvas drop cloth, milk, dinner and clippers. Like the kind you use on men for cutting their hair. I assumed he wanted to use it for touch ups. No. He wants to use it for shaving his head. He's outside on the pitch black porch right now messing around with it and shaving off his hair. He's basically going to look exactly like Larry David when he's done, since no hair = Larry David.
I feel like I brought this on myself. Just this weekend, as I was driving up to Santa Cruz, I found myself thinking how much I hated it when my last boyfriend decided to start messing around with his look. He tried to dye his dark brown hair blonde and it ended up orange. He LOVED his orange hair. I hated it. With a passion. As I remembered this painful memory, I thought to myself, boy I'm glad Boyfriend doesn't mess around with his nice hair. Sometimes it gets a little long, but otherwise it's mostly fine...
Now look at me.
FUCK AND NOW THERE WAS JUST A BIG EARTHQUAKE!!!!!!!!!
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