"if the blues are dead, they have at least been nicely embalmed." - eddie dean
i highly reccomend this magazine.

my hands are a strange chemical soft, battered by three successive (and largely unsuccessful) waves of ammonium hydroxide and hydrogen peroxide and various other multisyllabic substances. i cringe to think of the condition of my scalp. the majority of my hair, evidently, has little or no desire to be any type of blonde, much less champagne.

the third (final?) of those aforementioned chemical attacks is currently setting, as it will for the next 35 minutes.

if i'm not bald by morning, i will by god be a blonde.