Oh no you di'int...
Seriously, what could possibly be that funny? Lucky for me my husband gets my sick sense of humor but still, it's gotta be a buzzkill to have to wait for your wife to finish reading her laptop before you can, you know, 'get some'. But I kid you not, this girl is freakin' hilarious. Well, hilarious until I hit her Número Tres.
Oh NO. HELL NOOOOOOO you DI'INT!
My laughter went from roaring to dead silence. I'm talkin' mime silent. My eyes slowed to get her take on this. While she penned a pretty convincing argument, I couldn't help but feel defensive. Was she serious?
NO DRAWING ON OF THE EYEBROWS. NO MATTER WHAT.
So indulge me for a moment, will ya? See although I was born and raised a natural blond, adulthood (mainly all these years of being pregnant) has betrayed me and I will, in the end, die a brunette. Yet, in spite of this cruel twist of fate, I'm still left with remnants of my former self.
Body hair? Blond.
Fringe around my hairline? Blond
Roots as black as the polluted waters of the Ganges yet all other indicators point to a Swede in the making. What the fuck is up with that? You don't believe me? See for yourself. Go ahead, look.
The older I get, the worse the contrast and the more problematic my eyebrows have become. And until you nearly rip one off of your own face, which I actually did once, you'll never know the hassle that is a mismatched pair of brows.
I love my friend and she loves me. At least I think she does. I mean we talk and cut it up all the time and we have un mogollón (that would be tons to the non Spanish speakers) in common. But after reading this she may not be able to make an exception to her Número Tres.
I can promise no Crystal Gayle hair. Ever.
I don't even own any cutoffs.
The sextales I'll save for our email chats.
But the Revlon Brow Fill-in Powder?
The drawn on brows?
Sorry honey, those bitches are stayin'.