I walk into the hair salon with a stack of magazines under my arm.

Debbie, my stylist, gives me that sideways look that in so little words tells me, "I'm really not in the mood for this shit today."

I open up each magazine to a different page of a male celebrity photo. Every photo embodies male hairstyle at its finest. Ashton Kutcher's playful curls, Johnny Depp's artful locks, Brad Pitt's youthful hairdo and Justin Timberlake's whitefro. After I find the pictures I am looking for, I spread the magazines across the floor. I walk over my audience of beautiful people as I consider the merits of their individual tastes.

I call Debbie over. She sighs as she begrudgingly examines the photos with me. We talk layers and feathering, highlights and frosting, curls and waves and even the possibility of me going blonde.

After half-an-hour of deliberation Debbie finally asks, "So which one do you want to look like."

My neck nearly snapped as I jerked my head towards her, my eyes piercing into the depths of her soul.

"Why Debbie," I reply, "the point is, I want to look like none of them."





















I've had the same haircut from the same lady since I was quite young. I don't mind letting my girlie play and style it though. She cares more about what my hair looks like than I do.

I have just purchased dead space 2. The horror.
The horror.

I was out in NY/PA with my mom, sister, grandma and a couple aunts these last few days.

My sister had some of these at her apartment:



Which was pretty tasty.

My mom didn't recognize the dood on the label, but did want to know "why is that bearded pirate fellow making a gang sign?"

Which was a pretty awesome question.

zozo: jealous. I want dead space 2.

Chris: thats funny. I wanna try that beer.

Me: drank lots of peach schnapps last night, went to a club, now im awake and my girlfriend is wholly passed out behind me. Pretty lulz.

Devin. That. Was. Scrumptious.


I, on the other hand, am hungover. I dranks shots of things... I drank Guinness, I gave up my usual Bourbon for some reason. I have no idea why. but boozahol was required, bured friend in the morning and first gig with new band at night, and old friends came out to see the show. Awesome times, I am paying for it now.

Chris - I don't think I've had that stout, and I lubs me some stouts. Is it worthy of it's name?

I thought it was real good. Kind of tasted to me a bit like a cross between a brown ale and a stout. I didn't drink it "proper" out of a glass though, just straight out the bottle. Which is a little like, wrong, but whatev.

Def would drink moar.

Now if only I could learn to harness that sort of effort toward something that might get me paid ...

This is exactly all i been hearing (about myself) from everyone all weekend.

Ah yes, that conversation.

I know that one all to well.




It makes me think of almost every report card I got back in grade school.

"Devin is very smart, needs to apply himself more."






Even better, now my girlfriend is giving me the same talk ... I think has to do more with having a secure future though. I am wondering if I should start writing more short stories though. Smaller writing projects that I might actually finish before I get distracted ...



Ah fuck it back to drawing stick figures.

Oh, yeah, and also, evidently, i should be married by now.

Well, at least I seem to have that one on track.

It is kind of scary to think that more than likely, I will be engaged/married before the end of 2011.

I rarely show my chick the posts here, of course unless I'm in the hospital and she's posting for me while I get a new bionic implant. I did show her that post. She loved it. You should definitely write some short stories and submit them at least to magazines etc, get some shit published.

Also drinking from the bottle and bucking the system is YES. Fuck the man. Even if it's the beer man.

My lady just offered me a story in our school magazine. It is a spoofy piece.


Ready?

A product review for the anti-rape condom.

The idea that got me the gig:


"Here is what I am thinking for my first line. 'OH GOD OH GOD THE PAIN!'"

Fuck that, dude.
Fuck that.

Well, I get it in your case, Devski.
Barb seems like a great girl and the circumstances are pressing.

But in terms of people being like, NIGGA, WHY AIN'T YOU MARRIED YET?
Fuck that.

I gotcha.

Word!