NNNRGH! White-knuckled... resistance... failing... One more anecdote of happy buzzing clipper action and I'll be kneeling in the garden again, hopped up on Green and Blacks and shouting "I'm going to look like the FUCKING BORG QUEEN AHAhahaha" while I wield a badly-earthed beardtrimmer and the silken locks that took me so long to regrow (since the last seizure - what was it that time? Ah, yes, the persuasive visuals of the Baker Street graphic novels) fall round me like unseasonal leaves.
So, home to pin a technicolour nude of Phil Mitchell on the hall mirror and hope it strengthens my forbearance. Or my stubble will be on your hands, Barbelith... |
