Like any normal teenage boy, I watched the harry potter premiere the other day.
After about a couple of hours, I went home a sad muggle.
It's not because of the fact that the film was such a "snog fest."
It is not because the film was centered with Harry sneaking, eaves-dropping and following that BLOND whiny bloke.
And it is definitely NOT because of the group of big-mouthed arab guys behind us that keep jabbering in ARABIC while Ron is tongue-wrestling with a hormonal girl!
What made me most unappreciative of the movie is my own blonde-streaked self! I was basically watching a movie of silhouette and blurry faces. Of all the days to forget my lenses..
Sometimes life literally F***s me, and I bend for it.
Like today, I bought hair dye. All seemed good. I was excited to change up my look.
Until it turned out to be a formula for grey hair. It failed. I was back on all fours.
The moral of the story is Hermione is hot and that you should just really go to a hairdresser for your all hair desires. Be helpful, they need the cash.
Till then. I'm going to have a slumber party.
P.S.- Sorry for the saucepan. I don't have any congruent or clever photo to post. *sulk*
