Because it's a Monday, and because watching and posting this is more fun than making the beds...I give you, Alex Trebek, drunk. I never knew there were such cracks in that cool Jeaopardy exterior. Now we know. Happy Monday.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
80s Hair Salon Artwork: Why?
As a fan of hair cutting and general hygiene, I would like to send a message to all of the hair salons out there who think it's a good idea to post "chic" 1980s stylized posters, ala Patrick Nagel, as artwork in their businesses.
Ermm-hmm. (That was throat clearing.)
Dear Salon Owners Everywhere:
It scares the bejeezus out of me when I see those 80s-style posters hanging framed in your shops--or worse, as part of the awning that hangs over the exterior of your sad little business. The women in these paintings are TERRIFYING, and no one wants their hair. Let me say it again: No. one. wants. that. hair. The butch, spiky black hair with kabuki makeup is frightening to children, and frankly, to most adults (even if they won't admit it). Ask yourselves, has anyone ever once come into your shop, pointed at a poster and said, "THAT! That is what I want. Make me look like that woman!" No. Of course they haven't. Don't be stupid. So why have these posters? I've been forced to look at them in hair salons since roughly 1988, and they never go away.
I'm afraid we've come to a point where I will walk out of a salon, just solely based on principle, if I see these images on the wall. Really. I passed one by just the other day because of a freaky 80s awning. I have to figure that whomever put them there either, A.) Lives in a cardboard box, eats tuna out of a can or shoe every night, and found those things in a dumpster somewhere, and therefore can't be a skilled stylist, or B.) Really thinks that it is 1987 and hopes that I will really like my new Dixie Carter look. No, no, no!
I've included a few examples below so that all salon owners can remain vigilant and purge their hair huts of all of these cockroaches of the hairdo world. It must end.
Hugs and Tickles,
Katie
Let me just say that if I owned a hair salon, I would name it The Coif Cabin and would have artwork more like this:
Ermm-hmm. (That was throat clearing.)
Dear Salon Owners Everywhere:
It scares the bejeezus out of me when I see those 80s-style posters hanging framed in your shops--or worse, as part of the awning that hangs over the exterior of your sad little business. The women in these paintings are TERRIFYING, and no one wants their hair. Let me say it again: No. one. wants. that. hair. The butch, spiky black hair with kabuki makeup is frightening to children, and frankly, to most adults (even if they won't admit it). Ask yourselves, has anyone ever once come into your shop, pointed at a poster and said, "THAT! That is what I want. Make me look like that woman!" No. Of course they haven't. Don't be stupid. So why have these posters? I've been forced to look at them in hair salons since roughly 1988, and they never go away.
I'm afraid we've come to a point where I will walk out of a salon, just solely based on principle, if I see these images on the wall. Really. I passed one by just the other day because of a freaky 80s awning. I have to figure that whomever put them there either, A.) Lives in a cardboard box, eats tuna out of a can or shoe every night, and found those things in a dumpster somewhere, and therefore can't be a skilled stylist, or B.) Really thinks that it is 1987 and hopes that I will really like my new Dixie Carter look. No, no, no!
I've included a few examples below so that all salon owners can remain vigilant and purge their hair huts of all of these cockroaches of the hairdo world. It must end.
Hugs and Tickles,
Katie
Let me just say that if I owned a hair salon, I would name it The Coif Cabin and would have artwork more like this:
Monday, May 30, 2011
Memorial Day: A Day to Honor White Pants
That's what Memorial Day's for, right? The whole thing about wearing white pants until September? Well, to toast white pants, this year I plan to drink a lot of hard cider until I pass out, stinking of sunscreen, hot dogs, and dog saliva.
Before I begin this ceremony though, first, I would like to take a moment to remember all of the brave white pants that have served bravely and fallen in the line of duty...especially those cute little ones with the ties that I tore the ass out of two summers ago. Your memory will live on.
Before I begin this ceremony though, first, I would like to take a moment to remember all of the brave white pants that have served bravely and fallen in the line of duty...especially those cute little ones with the ties that I tore the ass out of two summers ago. Your memory will live on.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Muah ha ha!
So, friends, now that I am back in the blogger's saddle again, I'd like to start by taking a little poll:
Was it wrong that I gave my sister's phone number to the Republican Party, or just funny as all get out?
What's that? Funny you say? I agree. Come on, let's do the evil laugh together...
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