Friday, October 8, 2010

"It's Hairdressing; Calm the Fuck Down."

That's because you're a bourgeois American, completely uptight about sex. It's what screws up your children and turns them into sex offenders.

Without Misha in school I felt sort of alone during Cosmo. Though I was able to socialize more with Anita so it made the day go by faster.

And what a day for Griffin to come back! The one day Misha is gone and he returns. Guess the conversation is still put off. At least Misha is starting to get over her worries about him and his "questionable" past.

Sam was awfully frustrated. Someone should have reminded him that we were styling hair. It doesn't really matter if you're good or not. It was the dam hair rolls that got him. So he was in a bit of a mood.

After lunch I was walking back to Cosmo and realized I wasn't even going the right way. But Sam was in front of me so I guess I wasn't alone.

"You're lost," I said in a smart-ass tone. He looked back at me puzzled and I just told hi to follow me. I tried conversing with him but since he was in a mood he just sort of blew me off. By the time we got back he spoke and said:

"Look, I just get frustrated really easy and I'm not really in a talking mood." I finally turned around and put my hand on his shoulder saying:

"It's hairdressing. Just calm the fuck down."

Realizing I kind of sounded stern I gave a reassuring smile. He still felt a bit down but he seemed to be doing better for the rest of the day.

I swear I was ready to take my hair dryer and shove it straight up Chris' fat ass. I'll just star over here:

  • He sings Lady GaGa, constantly says how much he loves Lady GaGa, and insists that we call him "GaGa", though I should tell him Nick Swardson already took that for his new show "Pretend Time"
(By the way if anyone deserves his own show it's Nick Swardson. Absolutely the best comedian of all time.)

  • When we play music (all the time) he likes to dance and sing along. I have to keep reminding him that public singing is reserved for those who can actually sing.
  • Takes peoples seats and even when they ask and then demand he give it back he refuses to lift himself off his beach ball ass and move.
  • Sprayed people with alcohol, water, and hairspray whenever they told him off.
  • Cried when the teacher took points off for being a whiner and ruining equipment until the teacher gave him a good grade to shut him up. Not like she'll let him back in anyway because the final decision is up to the shop instructors.
  • Was in a bad mood so he constantly had to express his mood by pouting until someone noticed his desperate cry for attention.
  • Total swish stick. Now I'm all for flamboyancy but the way he does it is totally fake.
  • Screws shit up so badly and so often that's it's too much to be by accident. Besically he's purposely careless and impulsive.
  • C
  • U
  • N
  • T
A boy Hunter in our exploratory group unleashed some anger on Chris today. Hunter is a giant. Well over 6 feet tall, built like a truck, could push a truck, drinks beer (because he isn't asked for ID; people just assume) but not often so don't get the wrong idea, and has a black leather jacket and slicked back hair.

Chris took my backpack and threw it on the ground "because he needed to move the chair it was on". So Hunter took advantage of the situation to finally get a piece of Chris after the past 2 days of Chris fucking with him. So I let it play out. I asked him to pick it up, and then apologize. He didn't so Hunter backed me up. Chris took a spray bottle and took a squirt at Hunter. Now Hunter had him. He slowly approached him, repeating threats of knocking his teeth in while Chris cowered (running like a fucking fairy).

Hunter got one last squirt from Chris before he took the arm which wielded the bottle and used it to take Chris to the ground and drop the bottle. I Chris didn't squeal Hunter might have just broken his arm. We were all split, and I took a single squirt at Chris with the bottle before we just sat in separate sides of the room before the end of the day.

Oh the weekend approaches. Work again. Grrr, no morning shift. Oh well.

Live.

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