One morning recently I was taming the Tina Turner from my hair with my professional-grade 400 degrees ceramic flat iron, all the while releasing into the air the gentle scent of…well…ironed hair. Which I suppose is not quite like burnt hair, but somewhere in the neighborhood.
Still in his pajamas, Vinja walked past my bathroom door on his way up to the kitchen. He came back a moment later, visibly crestfallen, and surveyed the aromatics with this nose.
[Sniff.] [Sniff.] “Dammit…[Sniff]…I thought someone was cooking bacon.”
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
6 comments:
I want that flat iron.
Aw :(
That's awfully sad.
Sounds like you have a monster iron (very expensive by the sounds of it, but the cheap ones just don't work).
I just recently posted about something similar.
If it makes you feel any better, I'd totally choose bacon over goat!
mist1 - Hi! I know...who wouldn't want to smell like Eau D'Bacon, right??
jay - I do have a monster iron...actually it was a gift from The Brit for Valentine's Day 2006. He got tired of hearing me whine after my last iron broke. I can't say he doesn't listen to my needs!
catherine - Hi! Already read it! :) Very funny stuff. And I TOTALLY agree with you. Bacon trumps goat every time. (Unless we're talking about jay's goat...then [jay's] goat trumps bacon...of course.)
those who have ventured down the cannibal route, say it tastes like pork... I'm prepared to take their word for it!
edvard - Ohhhh Edvard...I'd tell you all about how you're missing out but I wouldn't want to convert you. The more vegetarians there are in this world, the more bacon there is for me!
Post a Comment