It’s almost 4.
My hair is wrapped in tin foil.
With purple dye underneath its sheen.
Hooray. No more ungodly green strands.
It’s time to wash it out.
But Rudy is telling me how guys get chicks.
To sleep with them.
And amongst others.
I gather Rudy should write a book.
If he hasn’t already.
Time to go.
What will my father say at my…
taking a shower at 4 am.
Not too sane at all.
