I wasn’t expecting to talk to a bird today. I should know better.
Scott and I were passing time on the patio, talking about something stupid and possibly Sailor Moon-related. Cleo,
one of the attention-loving neighbourhood cats, was lounging nearby. And then, BOOM. He’s got a bird in his mouth.
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I’ve been a waxing devotee for a long time. Then, one day, I knocked over a jar of the stuff. That ended our friendship, and the rest of my plans for that day.
I’m debating whether $150 is too much to spend on what appears to be the most powerful epilator known to man (though probably unknown to actual men with penises and such), and I’m coming up with a big fat no.
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