This was awful. A couple weeks ago, Puff had found her first gray hair, and now it seemed they were popping up everywhere. If she started plucking them all out, she’d have no hair left. If she dyed it, she thought people would be able to tell, which didn’t seem right. She didn’t know what to do. Hula Girl tried to make Puff feel better, telling her that it was okay, that the grays weren’t very noticeable, and even if they were, they only made her look more sophisticated. Easy for her to say, Puff thought. That bitch never aged. She was probably going to look the same until they pried that damn ukelele out of her cold, dead hands.
But I’m Not Even 30 Yet!14 08 2010