Time for a Trim

I'm sitting on the sofa with Moggie, watching Sprout, and she just started rubbing my hair and reciting a poem about Fuzzy Wuzzy. I called yesterday and made an appointment with my stylist for tomorrow, guess I was a little overdue. Don't you love the honesty of kids though? Yesterday while the TV repair guy was here, Tootie informed me that I had stinky breath and the repair guy was snickering. I don't know what he was laughing about because he smelled like a freaking billy goat. I had to open the windows and pull out the Febreze, he was a stinker. Nice guy and he fixed the glaucomavision we had going on but he needs to hit the Right Guard a little harder. I used to work with this guy, a hugger, and he had horses. He actually lived near my boyfriend at the time and since we all worked together and they carpooled, I said to my boyfriend one night, Does Dennis ride or groom those horses before you guys come to work? and my boyfriend was like, No, why? so I told him, well, he always smells like a horse and after he stopped laughing, he told me that Dennis was allergic to deodorant and I was smelling BO. BO and coffee breath do not combine for an attractive smell, let me tell you. It would suck to be allergic to deodorant. I don't like smelling bad. I like smelling like Vera Wang perfume, not farm animals. The bad thing is that you always hear about how bad deodorant is for you, something about aluminum and memory. I can handle not remembering crap, I can't handle being fragrant and sticky in the armpits. Really though, having a crappy memory isn't all bad. I'm pretty good at making lists and writing stuff down to remind myself of important things. I'm also pretty good at forgetting stuff so if someone pisses me off they can just steer clear of me for a week and then I can't remember why I was mad at them and it's all good again.