It reminded me of something Justin's friend Aeolan said yesterday, when we went shopping at Wacko: "I don't need to hustle down from work to be helped for ten minutes by intransigent hipsters who can't wipe their own asses."
Some people are just naturally hilarious.
I head for San Fran tomorrow, after a remarkably long day of hair modeling; I have to be there at 8:30am and don't leave until 2:30 pm, which seems like a very long amount of prep time. Also, the Sassoon Academy is right over the Santa Monica Hooters. When I remarked on it, Armand, my hairdresser, said, peevishly, "We were here first." They must get that a lot.
Maybe when they are done doing whatever horrifying thing they are planning to do to me, they will let me free and I can go downstairs and watch the bouncy breasts. I've never been to a Hooters. Probably the Santa Monica one is a good place to start. Of course, the Venice boardwalk is probably equivalent to Hooters on any given day of the week, except they wear rollerskates.