I found her naked in the shower tonight ostensibly dyeing
her hair. The breakup has been tough on her, I think. Shouldn’t she be wearing
gloves, I think. That hair dye sure is red, I think. “Changing your look, that’s
the tr--” She looks up with a smile on
what’s left of her face – “Don’t you know, honey? Blondes have more fun.”
Later, at the hospital, the doctors tell me that they don’t
know whether she’ll survive the night, let alone the plastic surgery needed to
put her face back on. Living with batshit girls, at least I’m never bored.
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