Larry and I Workin' Up a Sweat in My Garage

Oh, get your minds out of the gutter! Larry's gay, remember? He certainly wouldn't be working up a sweat THAT way with ME! What was I doing in the garage with Larry, you ask? Well, getting extensions put in my hair, of course! Okay, okay, let me back it up a tiny bit. Last week when I went in to get my hair cut I had all intentions of having blue extensions put in my hair again (remember, I've mentioned before that I'm 38 with the mentality of a 22 year old), but Larry only had one blue extension left, so I let my niece Alexa have that one. Now, this didn't make for a happy Tiney. After all, I'd already stormed in there like an animal, yelling at Larry and anyone who would listen, about him letting me walk around with sperm-brows all this time. But, Larry told me he'd make more and that he could put it in my hair on Thursday at his house. He only lives about 5 houses down from me. Mucho convenience!

So I called him yesterday and our conversation went a bit like this:

Me: "Hi Larry, how's it going? What are you up to?"
Larry: "Oh, just mopping the floors, doing what we have to do in life."
Me: "Did you get a chance to make the extensions for me and Madison?" (And yes, Bridget and Becky, that's how I said it. Not "Madison and I". Who the hell really talks like that in everyday life?)
Larry: "I sure did. Two blue for you, one pinkish -purple for Madison."
Me: "What time do you want me to stop by?"
Larry: "Oh God, you can't come here! The dogs have been loud all day and the house is a wreck. I'll come to your house."
Me: "No!!!!!!!! You can't come to my house! It's all nasty and there are My Little Ponies from one end to the other."
Larry: "My house looks worse than yours."
Me: "Nope, my house is way nastier and I'm not letting you in! So now what are we gonna do?"
Larry: "Well, we could meet in your garage."
Me: :::::::::::::heeheeheeeeeeee:::::::::: "Are you kidding me? Well, okay, what time will ya be here?"
Larry: "I'll be in your garage at 1:00."

And so that's how I came to be getting extensions in my 100 billion degree garage. Picture it. Summer in north Florida. A stuffy garage with a bag of old trash not three feet away from where we sit. Air thick as soup. Mikayla, looking cool as a cucumber, snapping away with the camera as I sit there with my hair not done, makeup- free, with nothing on my face except tinted moisturizer that is oozing down my face along with the sweat.

First goes Madison. Why isn't she sweating?



Almost done...



Ah, pretty!


Ooh, my turn! My turn! Geez, what's that smell?


Hurry up, Larry. I'm melting here! "Girl!? Am I looking cool and dry to you?"


This is what I have to say to that!



What IS this thing anyway? It looks like I've got a blood clot sitting on my head.



And what AM I pointing at here? "One wrong move with the extension, Larry, and I'm neutering you!"




Ooh, almost done. Just a few snip-snips. Aw, shit! I'm so sweaty I've now got blue hair stuck all over my arm! Oh well, all in the name of beauty! Or in this case crazy, wacky, funkiness!



This just goes to show ya that Tiney can blog about just about anything. But really, who do you know over the age of 20 (not including old lady blue-hairs!) that has blue in their hair? And who do you know that would have it done in their damn garage? No one, right? I am one cool chickadee if I do say so myself.

Until next time, Justine :o )