It's Whatever

a deep, cleansing exfoliation of the thoughts, with a hint of mint

War… What is it Good For? August 30, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — omahgawditzljk @ 1:42 am

probably nothing but therapy. but more importantly… hair.  what is THAT good for?

today i was getting my hair cut by a very serious hairman.  he didn’t just wash my hair in the sink… he made violent love to it with the tips of his manicured, abnormally small hands.  he smelled like cigarettes and coughed little baby coughs into my face. i didn’t complain, because i knew i walked in there with a head full of dandruff, and snow it did.

this man was a haircutting machine…from 1805. he was so damn slow i think i ovulated twice while sitting there.

he would take a  chunk of my hair,  lift it in the air with his comb while grabbing it tightly between his pointy and middle finger, walk around my head with the piece of hair in-between his fingers, examine it from all sides, study it and whisper to it, while at times forgetting what he was paid to do with it, and then finally snipped off a smidgen of it.  he repeated this for 9853 hours until i had one inch less of hair and side-bangs that, not shockingly, only look good on zooey deschanel.

before hour three into this haircut, right before i blacked-out, i started to stare for way too long at my hair, and i thought to myself…. you are hair.  what the fuck is hair? you are dead, no? why are you on my body? hair is CRAZY.

we let this stuff grow out of us and then we shape it and put gel in it and cover it with bows… and we have so much of it.  at least i do.  i have it on places that i don’t think hair should be, and i have it IN places, too…nooks and crannies.  i’m a hairy thomas’s english muffin.  but what is the point of having hair? does it protect our heads from sunburn? then why is it on my toes? are my toes susceptible to the tantrums, to the havoc of the sun? am i a man for having hair on my toes? and do you think that eva mendes has hair on her toes? i’m really friggin’ pissed that ryan gosling’s dating her.  she has a really excellent jaw line.

why do we spend so much money on hair? are we the only species that gives a fuck? if a bear walked through the woods wearing a red bow on its head, would YOU give a fuck? i’d think that bear was a lunatic. i’d judge the hell out of him, but i’d also snap a picture of him on instagram and then see how it looked on the “brannan” setting, because that one is always so nice.

do people with awful hair have harder lives? i’ve never met a grease-ball that i actually wanted to meet…and i think anyone that uncle jesse has ever “have mercy-ed” can attest that it was his hair that helped seal the bang bang deal, and not his homosexual relationship with joey, the one who pal-ed around with “mr. wood”chuck.

 “first we’re gonna bang, and then i’m gonna sing you a diddy by the ‘beach boys'”

a bear ate this guy:

his hair sucked.  in conclusion, never get bangs.


The Yellow Brick Road… to Hell August 13, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — omahgawditzljk @ 2:41 am

You know how the Yellow Brick Road might be a metaphor for destiny?  Or your gut instinct?  Or GPS?  Well sometimes it’s a combination of all 3.  Today I realized that there is a way to get from my house to Starbucks without taking any main roads, and so I used my instinct to weave through back roads to get to Coffee Heaven.  On my way back, I got lost.  Did I take a right on my way there, and therefore need to take a left on my way back?  Was it this street I turned on, or the one I already passed?  And is that dog taking a shit so close to my car because he doesn’t like me?  I then got home by process of “oh shit, this isn’t the right street” elimination.  Then, later today, my husband and I were coming home from a friend’s house, and I was like, “Hey friend, let’s take this shortcut again and see if I can remember how to get home from my adventures earlier today,” which only proved that no, I did not remember the shortcut from earlier today.  So Hubby Bubby forced me to use the GPS on my phone.  Even later tonight, I came home from dinner with my best friend and thought to myself “Now is my moment.”  So I took the shortcut for the third time.  I did it. I got home within seven minutes, and I didn’t make any mistakes.

But the real thing is this:  Tonight was the first time in a long time that I wanted to try something new, something that was a tiny bit risky, and I kept at it until I got it right.  I said “I’m going to try this, and I’m going to succeed,” and then I did.  Sure, it was a safe neighborhood of middle class families with roads that aren’t that long or windy.  Yes, I was listening to a podcast featuring Angela Kinsey to keep my spirits high.  But it’s the first time in a year that I did something that I wanted to try, for no one other than myself, just because I wanted to, even though it was slightly stupid.

That is all.