Skip to main content

Iron Clothes

So, the other night Charlie is over. Sitting on my couch. And Jake is sitting at the computer. Jake is giggling sometimes and it is sometimes worth looking over your shoulder to find out why.
Charlie has the television remote. So, me and Charlie watch an infomercial for ten minutes.
About these ceramic hair straighteners.
Made with REAL ceramic.

So, this very night, Jessyca and I are having a chat.
I am sitting in my living room. Hans Frauenlob is on my TV.
And Jessyca loves my hair. I know this because she always says she does. Tonight was no exception.
...A ceramic hair straightener...she also says these words to me. On this very night.
But, to get right to the point, Jessyca thinks I should try one.

Assholes.

Comments

Jennifer said…
Unless this faboulous ceramic straightener can straighten my hair from wet to dry in matter of minutes.. I'm not buying it. I can get the same results with a good old fashioned steel round brush, and a blow dryer. :)
Queenie said…
Yo, people.
If you play with heat, it might turn to fire.
Good words to live by.
My hair just does not agree.

Q
Constance said…
Go with what God gave you say I...as one who washes, scrunches and leaves to dry curly.
Queenie said…
Because you and me, Connie?
We rock.
We should start a revolution.
We can get Richard Simmons to back us!

Q
AJ in Nashville said…
Call me crazy, but...why would you want to use ceramic hair straighteners...unless maybe you had ceramic hair?

It just doesn't make sense...

:)

Hi Queenie... :)

Popular posts from this blog

Boxing Day

Countless times, on the weekends when you are here, you leave for me a stream of yellow in the bathtub. Something angled wrong in this 160 year old building. Sometimes you hit the tiles, as you whip your dick to the left to spray. Do you hold a finger over your pisshole? Do you laugh inside your head? I don't want to know. She bathes in there too.  I have been kind even letting you here. It is only because I love your father.    It is May or June, I don't remember. As sickness washes over me and the rest of the planet too, it can be easy to lose track of time. We tend to the plants, stroke their leaves and name them all. We watch the cat grow fatter, as she lolls in the sun on the stolen chair cushion she's dragged to the hard cement balcony floor. I feel like I know Gamer Chad better than myself and she complains about Jordan Peterson. She can't stand his voice.  But I am more tired and angry on weekends. I tell my her so. I tell her my solution. She tells me she...

Unending Paper Chase

You check in on me when you get your break for lunchtime now. You never used to. You ask me, "Are you all right?" You breath in and out hard once through your nose, like it is a chore to even ask. It seems to me that for you everything is an obligation, even holding my hand. Everything you do doesn't feel like anything more than surveillance now. I don't want the days to end and it is getting harder to sleep at night. I am starting to feel sick, like I have the flu. I'm always cold. But I haven't eaten much lately. My stomach is filled with acid. I smile at you anyway. I write two letters a day. One to keep you smiling and one that tells of the truth, but they both look the same. You do not know that I form certain words and sentences in a way that triggers me, in a way that reminds me of what is real. It is something that I started doing in grade school for tests, so that I could easily remember the answers, and then later, so my mother would not underst...

reruns all become our history

"You are ignoring my question. Still." She's angry, 45 minutes later. She is always angry after the friends leave. It's the same old shit. He's fucking tired of hearing her voice. That accusatory voice. That shameful voice. The one that demands the answer to a question he's forgot. How did this all start again? Instead, he walks over to the sofa and sits down beside her. He takes her hand in his. He just wants it to end. "They are our friends." She shakes her head no. But she keeps his hand in his. Her phone goes off. It makes its sound. What's the name of that song again? it feeds, it grows