As I was accommodating my addiction this evening (ie - all things cyber), I suddenly had a hankering to dye my hair. So I called my friend Tex, put him on speaker and chatted with him as I died my hair jet black. You won't really be able to tell the difference. The pix all make my hair look black. Or more black. Or a bit less black. It all looks the same on this blog. But I'll post pictures anyway. Because I'm Loreal. And I'm worth it.
This is a shot just after I dried it. It looked way better in the mirror than this shot shows.
Why don't I look amazingly thin, gorgeous and hot like the chick on the box? I mean, doesn't this box pretty much promise that I'll look just like HER? Maybe it's the shirt...
I am vexed with the false advertising.
My new dye job.
And there you have it. This is what I do when I'm bored (I really need to get out more). And Tex will be glad to know that I didn't end up burning off all my hair. We lost track of time a wee bit and I left the dye on for more like 45 minutes in stead of 20. HA!