I would consider myself a risk taker. I don’t really weigh the odds when making a decision, probably because I never learned how to read odd ratios. Regardless, there are two things I don’t f*ck around with:
2. My hair
Someone who obviously doesn’t share my views is my imaginary best friend Kim Kardashian.
What the actual hell did you just do to your hair?
I think this might be a cry for help, like Britney in 2007, except Kim’s hair is going to fall out from over processing in about two weeks.
Are you upset? Is this some kind of psychotic episode? Do you need me to call someone?
I also can’t help but feel like this is Kanye’s fault. It’s kind of like when your friend is dating an asshole and then all of a sudden starts wearing different clothes and listening to different music or doing drugs and you’re just shaking your head with your girlfriends blaming every dumb decision she makes on her new man.
You better invest in some conditioner and Vitamin E, because your hair is fried. I keep believing in you and then this. Come on. Work with me. Help me, help you.
Over it. I’m going to the mall.