I got my hair dyed last night and it was supposed to be blonde but ended up the color of a nice brown mouse but that’s not the point. The point is that because it was dyed super late last night I couldn’t wash my hair this morning because I was afraid I’d strip the color, but I must be allergic to the dye because it FUCKING ITCHES SO MUCH I WANT TO SCRATCH MY SCALP OFF WITH A SPORK. It’s so bad that all I can think about is that story where the girl had that 1950’s beehive hairstyle and never washed it and it itched like mad but she kept putting on more hairspray and then one day a billion baby spiders poured out of her ear because a hairspray loving spider had burrowed in her scalp and laid eggs in her brain and they hatched and now all I can think is that HOLY SHIT WHAT IF THERE WERE SPIDER EGGS IN THE HAIR DYE?! I mean, there probably weren’t, but still.
So I’m basically freaking out and scratching at imaginary bugs under my skin like a heroin addict coming down off the horse, except without the whole being-tied-to-the-bed-and-forced-to-take-methadone part. Which at this point? Kinda doesn’t sound too awful. Like if I had a choice between being here at work or being forced to stay in bed and take drugs I’d be all “Fucking sign me up, Dr. Feelgood”. And that’s when I realized that I am officially: jealous of heroin addicts.
Seems like a bad sign.
Update: As requested, a picture of my new itchy hair…
Me: If I just smile and pretend the imaginary bugs don’t exist people will think I’m normal. Unless they do exist. Then I’m fucked.
Comment of the day: It seems to me this scratching action of yours has had an unexpected side effect: cleavage enhancement. You should buy a case or two of that dye, make up some labels touting it as a “Proven Breast Enlargement System” and sell the stuff online at an insanely high markup. You’ve already got the perfect photo for your labels (if you like that Jones Soda, homegrown vibe). However, you might want to replace the bug’s “Oh, hi” with a marketing gem like “Scratch me for bigger boobs!” or “The feminine itch you wantto have. And give that talking bug a name, too. That way you can license his likeness and make a ton of money from the t-shirts, beer cozies, and breakfast cereal. I suggest “Boob, the builder,” because then you can have a cartoon of your own on Adult Swim. ~ “I can’t read my nametag“