Waking with a gleam in my eye and my preparations almost complete I realized that I didn't have any gloves. Gloves would be important in case what we scientists call a "worst case scenario" happened. Having no idea what a worst case scenario would look like I decided more research was in order. A Google search of "Hair terrible accident boobs" returned, I swear to God, a picture of that twinkly vampire that looks like a gay albino caveman, 80's hard rock somethings Motley Crue, a baseball bat and several suicidal naked women. After puzzling over this for a minute I realized that it could only mean one thing: Tentacle Monster has struck! Tentacle Monster is always the worst case scenario! By merely searching for the worst case scenario he (or possibly she,) had revealed himself (or herself, depending on which backwater mental sewer your insane Japanese porn fetish leads you to.)
|Terrible Hair Accident|
Returning home, gloveless, the burning obsession that had gripped me the day before quickly faded. In it's place I found only the gnawing hunger of unfulfilled dreams as well as the gnawing hunger of regular hunger.
My foray into the mysterious world of the sciences had been futile with regards to hair, but had not been without valuable lessons:
- Never trust foreigners in tights.
- Clothes usually aren't on fire.
- Rit is a front for fire demons from beyond the stars.
- No one likes progress.
- Tentacle Monster now has control of Google.
- McDonald's employees don't know what gloves are.
- There is a boss fight in every gas station if you're willing to look hard enough.
- Your roommate will eventually pass out drunk with the oven on and burn your house down.