Bald headed, bald headed, bald headed, bald...hair?

Bald headed, bald headed, bald headed, bald...hair? There is hair on this head!?!?! Johnson damn it, that fool, that cretan. He should be pistol-whipped for this. I never thought
I'd long for a razor or some clippers the way I'd longed for my first lover, but there it was. I needed four bald men to sacrifice in the name of the unnamed gods so that I, myself
could pass my cosmetology boards. Brenda had always done better on the cheap wig "model" she used in beauty school. I, on the other hand, did better with my 6-year-old brother,
Later on, he said this is what turned him gay. I'm not buying it. I think what turned him gay was his love for ABBA, Steel Magnolias and hot men - in that order. His stint as a
vogue dance champion wasn't a fluke, and he damn well knew it. Had he not started driving nails into his arms,
he might at least made it through a few rounds of So You Think You Can Dance. But his obsession led to the shame of being called a "Stagmata Wannabe" and ostracism be his church.
When he was found dead in his cottage with wounds in his wrists and a sharpened lead pencil stuck through his left ankle, they passed it off as suicide. The detective knew better,
this was the work of none other than the stationary killer. No wonder there weren't any fingerprints left at the scene of the crime, just fine traces of soft rubber. The detective
eyed the scene carefully and toyed with his sunglasses in his hand. "It looks like our victim," he began, as he raised his sunglasses to his face, "was stationary." In the distance
a light twinkled in the sky, growing larger. The sunglasses offered little protection against the meteor that finally ended the stream of terrible one liners.

Started: 2010-12-12 18:26:58
Finished: 2011-04-26 19:23:01

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