Low Maintenance Lady

Ok, I'll cop to it: I haven't had my hair cut in years. What usually happens is I go out, get drunk, come home and grab the scissors. Snip, snip... tug, pull, shake... and there's a football-sized mound of curls strewn on the mantelpiece. Somehow this works beautifully.

And it sure saves the agro of entrusting your head to some stinky weirdo stranger who looks like they'd much rather be doing something else.

Yay for being curly!!!