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His hair line fascinated her. She was nine

  • His hair line fascinated her. She was nine inches taller than him and his hair transplant job was as obvious as a row of telephone poles crossing a flat barren desert. Neat spot of

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  • tea washed down all the horrid insults and comparisons to fishnets that his hair plugs aroused in her. Thank god for Earl Grey she thought, she needed to keep her mouth shut this

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  • time, but the combination of bergamot and his aftershave caused her Tourette's to act up and she blurted out the first association that the fishnet over his dreadlocks aroused. "

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  • I just caught Whoopie again. I'd better throw her back!" Everyone laughed nervously. That is, until he fell over, glassy eyed.

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  • I noticed he have glasses in his eyes. Instantly removed the, but i dunno what the hell they were doing here.

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  • So I thought what the hell, stuck the glasses in my eyes and started experimenting. Long story short, I invented a cocktail I call Red Eye Conjunctivitis! It's two parts vodka and

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  • then you throw it in your eye. It's excruciatingly painful but was all the rage around the greater LA area. Bloodshot eyes were the new split tongues. I was proud of my

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  • bloody eye balls. But just like temporary tatoos, the Hipsters took over.They sold red contacts at high-end boutiques. Everyone had the "Dead on your feet" look. Could I profit? I

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  • didn't think so, but there was only one way to find out. Without hesitation, I set off towards the public bathrooms, drill in hand, and set to work.

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  • Before long, every toilet in the joint drained through secret network of tubes back to my lab. Discreet mass urinalysis may not save my sanity, but it's mankind's only hope.

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