Hair today…gone tomorrow…
This is too funny not to be shared. I loved the joke about the “bob”.
The other day my wife went to her hairdresser. A regular occurrence. As, indeed, was our conversation:
[INTERIOR: house, morning]
She Who Must Be Obeyed: I’m off to the hairdresser.
Me [OS]: If it’s a longer bob-cut, can I call it a robert?
[SFX: loud groans and jeers]
Yup, the long winter evenings just FLY by in our household. Though from my perspective, the reason why women spend afternoons in the salon at hundreds of dollars per visit, complete with bleaches, dyes and styling, has always been a mystery. I usually try to relieve She Who Must Be Obeyed’s likely boredom while she’s there by sending helpful texts like “I double dog dare ya to get a mullet”.
I really can’t understand it. I mean, money’s actually earned to be spent on beer, stuff for the toolshed, and over-powered cars. I go to the barber on a necessity…
View original post 75 more words
quirkywritingcorner 
Comments are closed.