Bah, I can't believe uni is back this week! Well, it's not like my routine has changed much. I only have it for three days, get a four day weekend, and didn't even make it to Tuesday's session as I had an appointment with my dermatologist who is extremely difficult to get into and being cancer-free and rash-free is much more important than getting the stupid handouts and blah blah this-is-what-the-subject-is-about-cakes. But you know, it's the principle of it all!

I had a pretty good end of holidays though. I finally got an appointment with my new (male!) hair artiste, and he kicked my hair's arse. I am now mullet free (pretty much), and he got like, a kilo of bouff out, so my hair is now sleek and flat and has like, actual style. Which is good, as short hair is out. I think my hair looks pretty fucking cool. Which is like, a fucking good thing, as the cut alone was like, a hundred bucks. He's trying to convince me to allow him to colour my hair next time with some totally boss highlights, but wouldn't that like, double the price? I mean, I don't mind spending money on my hair, clothes, underwear, nails (just treatment, not colour. I'm not a poof), moisturiser, and shoes, but I think spending more than $150 on my hair in one go is a bit extreme. Although he says it would look good... bah! But yeah, my hair looks nice at the moment. Much nicer than Ian Thorpe's, who is totally trying to rock it but is failing miserably. A warning: these photos make Thorpe look so revolting I very nearly didn't include them in case you in turn assumed my hair looked in any way similiar. But a Thorpe snark is a Thorpe snark, after all, so I included them.

Oh, and PS -- nice tux, Thorpe. I've always wanted a pair of pants made out of garbage bags. I've seen abandoned babies in those big-ass industrial bins who have attempted the whole rubbish bag look and pulled it off much better. You faggot.

But back to more important things, like me. My hair is a bit hair-model-y, in that it's very sweep-y fringe-y, but it's definitely Winter hair, and I need cool Winter hair to go with my dark green velvet jacket. Okay, I haven't exactly bought that jacket yet, but that's only because stupid Brisbane doesn't have an Yves Saint Laurent. Stupid Brisbane. I was, however, at Versace this weekend, having dinner with my parents and Cap Guy, and they had this pretty cool blue-ish velvet jacket. But it had this weird leaf embroidery on it, and I don't think I could rock it. Sigh.

What else happened this week? Uhm. Oh! I briefly thought I had bowel cancer, as I like, had blood in the bowl. Sometimes I might get a little blood on the paper if I wipe a bit too vigourously, but there was like, blood in the water, making it look like the very tasty rosé I had been drinking. I briefly panicked, but then I remembered that my hole had been a little dry lately, and the thickness of the shit must have just ripped through me. I told my mother about my dilemma a few days later (after I had all healed, ahem), and she rolled her eyes at me. I think she thought Cap Guy had just finally ripped me a good one up the shitter. But that's not the case! See, if a shit can rip me in half, how is Cap Guy's beer-can-esque cock going to do? Stupid mother, assuming I have a hungry bum. I wonder how she would react if she found out my sister regularly enjoys anal sex... ha!

PS -- Speaking of bowel cancer, my Dad had a colonoscopy today, so even my father can fit more up his chute. He can get a camera up there! But maybe he enjoys it when mother puts a few fingers up there while she blows him, thus loosening him up. Hmm, there is a grosser image than Ian Thorpe in this post. Well I'll be.

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posted by Dawei at 3:10 pm