August 5, 2005
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cross my heart and hope to die
a foiling comb straight through my eye
into my brain
and stir it up
I cannot believe my luck
forget the mess
forget the pain
it looks as though I’ve missed again
the bleach in foils
I’ve overprocessed
it takes both hands to find my ass-ess
??
oddly enough, I’m talking about my mother, not hair.
holy crap.
I’ve started thinking in beauty school metaphor.
Comments (9)
Alert me when Frankie Valli starts singing to you, m’kay?
)
(love you and miss you, baybee!!
one of my favorite cd’s, yo.
ah mothers. too bad you’re not lucky and adopted, like I am. holy crap that helps.
I hear ya.
gah, what did she do now? love you.
lol near drowning_not_waving … “beauty school drop out!”
{{hugs}}
I love Tom Waits!
Yeah, my mother makes me want to gouge my eyes out on a daily basis. Nice combs!
Oh, I thought it was a labotomy joke.
it was! is?