That B is a Bad Mother...

"Shut your mouth!"
"I'm just talkin' bout B"
"We can dig it"

I saw Hailey yesterday, and spent WAY too much getting my hair cut.

But she's worth it. I've been seeing her for about 3 years now.

She's the type of stylist that I don't tell her how I want it cut, never cuts my hair the same way twice, but it ALWAYS looks hot.

So much so that each time I see her, I head out for a drink or two afterwards, sort of a red carpet treatment for the new 'do. I can almost hear theme music as I walk out of the salon. And yeah, usually when I walk by a woman, her ovaries will jump out of her body and attach themselves to my underbelly for nourishment.

Except for last night.

Because of a crisis at work (Read: Clusterfuck) I had to go back in right after, and didn't get out until 10ish? 11ish? Not sure. So the only people that were there to appreciate my hawtness were two fifty-something cleaning ladies who don't speak English.

It's a shame.

Hailey told me as she got started, "I need to make your hair look extra hot so you can get laid."

She's right, you know.