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[FOR THE GIRLS] Think of a Gal.
- Thread starter BestDatrix
- Start date
Gal who actually posts in this thread
a gal who is rather salty (
)
)
gal who is attempting to learn various forms of witchcraft and is mediocre at all of them, much to her chagrin
gal who is addicted to attention
gal who says "poshanka" a lot
gal who has volt fillament and thread storm equipped
gal who needs just 99 reacts...
Gal who won't give 99 reacts
I can think of a Super Gal! Her name is Ran Kotobuki and her iconic 2001 anime she
The girl who stands gazing across the distant sea of stars
gal that is suspiciously shaped like my missing cheese wheel
"Unfortunate" doesn't begin to describe this girl, this world rewards pretty hair and nothing else, I am beyond convinced at this point. After getting completely fooled with my hair thanks to my hairdresser changing times on me last minute and refusing to provide good shampoo prior to the day out with my friends, losing this definition in my curls somehow felt even flatter than I had thought possible. My length was superior, my brush was superior, and it still looks matted, so I don't see a reason to continue engaging with looking cute where what aspects of me are within my control is overwhelmingly outweighed by what is not.
I am done with putting effort into this endless money sink, and you won't get a fond farewell. This dresser has (momentarily) infected my roots with a degenerative hairline that reduces at a rapid rate over time but stops short of killing my confidence. My hair used to have a bouncy spirit at its heart, this has been transplanted and replaced with a mop of keratin that feeds on cheap product and scratchy brushes from insecure little salon workers that heckle behind the hairnet and tear each other to shreds over scraps of my bottle of Alfaparf Style Stories Twisted Curl (Medium Hold). The work environment we fostered has trapped us all like this in a vicious electric hair curler, and escaping it requires acceptance of the harshest reality we all scramble to explain why, that none of the countless hairdryer efforts we put ourselves through will ever amount to one single shining speck of a thick curl would make this the end, but my Leaf Frog Card still has some credit on it, and I would never leave so many great girlies out to dry, so I'll suffer through a few more bus trips and shopping centre visits for them.
One last thing before I leave you all to react with mockery, ridicule, and a self-righteous need to 'borrow' my product now that I'm finished with it, before you do everything in your power to minimize my disappointment with my hairdresser, box them up and shove them to some glittery corner of your memory, and hope they disappear forever as a stain on your White Fox Collection 2 Hoodie. From this moment on, no sprays or bottled magic goo you offer matters to me. The foulest insults you hurl with intent to flatten my ego, self confidence and hair will calmly settle at the earth before my feet, and the plastic bottles you spit will bring all the pain of a brick (these things HURT omfg). You are less than anything you can awkwardly mash into your over pampered and greasy hair, while I carry on, brimming with money distilled from from being spent on this treacherous hobby.
- Based on a true story
I am done with putting effort into this endless money sink, and you won't get a fond farewell. This dresser has (momentarily) infected my roots with a degenerative hairline that reduces at a rapid rate over time but stops short of killing my confidence. My hair used to have a bouncy spirit at its heart, this has been transplanted and replaced with a mop of keratin that feeds on cheap product and scratchy brushes from insecure little salon workers that heckle behind the hairnet and tear each other to shreds over scraps of my bottle of Alfaparf Style Stories Twisted Curl (Medium Hold). The work environment we fostered has trapped us all like this in a vicious electric hair curler, and escaping it requires acceptance of the harshest reality we all scramble to explain why, that none of the countless hairdryer efforts we put ourselves through will ever amount to one single shining speck of a thick curl would make this the end, but my Leaf Frog Card still has some credit on it, and I would never leave so many great girlies out to dry, so I'll suffer through a few more bus trips and shopping centre visits for them.
One last thing before I leave you all to react with mockery, ridicule, and a self-righteous need to 'borrow' my product now that I'm finished with it, before you do everything in your power to minimize my disappointment with my hairdresser, box them up and shove them to some glittery corner of your memory, and hope they disappear forever as a stain on your White Fox Collection 2 Hoodie. From this moment on, no sprays or bottled magic goo you offer matters to me. The foulest insults you hurl with intent to flatten my ego, self confidence and hair will calmly settle at the earth before my feet, and the plastic bottles you spit will bring all the pain of a brick (these things HURT omfg). You are less than anything you can awkwardly mash into your over pampered and greasy hair, while I carry on, brimming with money distilled from from being spent on this treacherous hobby.
- Based on a true story