HairbRUSH!!!

T'other day I was in Manchester.

More specifically, I was in a Superdrug in Manchester, and I decided that I should buy a hairbrush, "no longer shall your hair control you, Tom!" I said to myself, "from henceforth, you will own a hairbrush, and every day you shall use it to sculpt your hair into a form that best appeases YOU!" So then I bought a hairbrush, and I used it for a few days. Then I decided I should reflect upon this... event with a blog entry.

The worst part of brushing one's hair is, without doubt, the beginning of brushing one's hair - when you first touch brush to hair and the whole experience is a distressing concert of hair-pulling and that-kind-of-pain-that-is-quite-painful-but-not-quite-painful-enough-to-justify-you-saying-'ow', after that however, you get into what I have affectionately, and rather perversely called, the 'glory zone', that's the part when the hair just flows the brush and obeys your every command.

Its kind of like an authoritarian society, he said politics-student-iously, whereby once you have crushed the citizens of their will to dissent, they then swiftly submit to your will... untill you then push it to far and they rebel and hang you naked from a streetlight in central Rome, but, I don't think that applies to hairstyling, at least, I HOPE that doesn't apply to hairstyling.

But yeah, since that day, I've enjoyed fluffing my hair up, brushing it down, fluffing it down and brushing it up - and so all is well! Hooray!

This is my blog for now, I promise the next one will be less braindead and effeminate.