What The Frangipane?

IT TAKES NADA FOR ME

To Admit I Was Wrong … I’ve Been Doing It For So Long …  

So, Reader’s Choice:  Regret.  Shame.  Guilt.

“… Nah, It’s About Me Being A Dink, Darlings.”

Let’s Go Back To Big Sexy Bed Head.

 

MY SATURDAY MORNING COIF

Segued Over To Sunday Morning … Encore … Bravo, Bello. 

When The Little Coif That Couldn’t, Ditten!

“What The Frangipane Was I Thinking?”

… Taking The Do Public Without A Hair Permit.

 

WEARING A TOQUE

To Calm The Elevated Disaster … Did Nothing … To Mitigate Hair Gate.

“… ‘Nothing’ … Could Be Described As ‘Pumping Rocket Fuel On The Bon Fire Of Vanities’ …”

Because Once I’d De-Toqued My Scalp

… The Horror, The Horror … 

 

HERE’S A TRUISM

To Share With Every Future Generation Of Humankind:

“Earthly Folks Don’t Give Flying Frank’s About Hair …”

That Isn’t Chia Pet Sprouting From Their Beautiful Melons.  Nope.  We Don’t.

Now, We Just Nosh On Chia Seeds Instead Of Cultivating Green Hair Transplantable Edibles.

 

SO, WHY IN TARNATIONS

Did I Care To Scare …

Small Children.  The Elderly.  Rex.

“And, The Twin Alpaca’s At The Mall’s Winter Wonderland Petting Zoo?”

… Because What Happens At Casa Kuched Never Stays At Casa Kuched.

 

AND, THIS TASTY NUGGET

Big Sexy Bed Head … 

Is A Narcissist’s Equivalent Of Plumber’s Butt.

“Sure, Its Beautiful.  Majestic.  Bountiful.”

.. Poetic In The Right Hands.

 

FUN FACT CONFESSION OBSESSION

I Can’t Look Away

Especially, If I Happen Upon A Fallen Feather.

“And, Said Feather Would Magically Find Its Way Down ‘The Cheekatorical Abyss’ Under Chuck …”

… Tickle, Tickle, Tickle.

 

Photo by Pexels 

3 thoughts on “What The Frangipane?

Comments are closed.