Wednesday, June 07, 2006

Why I Am No Danger to the Fashion World #137

This morning, I decided in a moment of wild abandon to wear my hair down. Of course, in its natural state, my hair looks an awful lot like I’m related to a Shetland pony – frizzy and sticking out at odd angles. So I fired up my curling iron and tried to make it at least frizz, you know, in a controlled fashion.

And then, having spent “all that time” on it, I decided I should probably hit it with a little hairspray. Might even help make it look a little less frizzy, right?

I get out the hairspray, blow the dust off the bottle, aim it at my head and start depressing the plunger.

Nothing happens.

I push the button a few more times. Nada. Not even a sense that hairspray is thinking about moving into the little straw on its way to my head. It isn’t working. It appears to be broken.

What the heck? This is a pretty low-tech deal here - how can it be broken? This bears further investigation!

So I look directly at the sprayer and firmly squeeze the trigger one more time.

Y’all know what happened next, right?



A lovely thick mist of hairspray, right in the eyeballs.

I swear to you, my curling iron laughed. The hairspray just sat there, looking innocent. Like this:

Ha, ha, ha. Very funny, you two.

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