confession: i had a wave nouveau

picture it. circa 1991. i was a cute little girl in the sixth grade.

why my mother did this to me, i still have no clue. i realize that as a child, i had ridiculously thick hair. but i already had a perm. why she felt the need to slap this modern day jherri curl on my hair continues to puzzle me to this day.

the wave nouveau is designed to create a head full of bountiful curls. but it looked nothing like that on me. probably due to the fact that i had absolutely no clue what i was doing.

all pictures from this era in my life have been destroyed. if any such pictures happen to surface, they are immediately destroyed. i ran across a picture of my dad, brother and i on the steps of the u.s. capitol. yes, it was destroyed.

don't think that i've come to this point of self-revelation overnight. it's taken me a while to get here. after numerous jokes by a person who shall remain nameless (but if he reads this entry, he'll know i'm talking about him), i have finally accepted this shameful part of my hair history. although i wasn't of age to legally consent to this chemical process, i accept my role in this hair-tastrophy.

regular girls really don't like male strippers....

...they really don't. i promise. it's not some front to protect some good girl image. the very idea of a naked sweaty stranger makes us very uncomfortable. if anything, it's hilarious and a guaranteed good time. but, honestly, i'd rather watch a female stripper any day. #nohomo

usually, the lights will go down and a man wearing chaps and a tasselled thong comes skipping, kicking and bucking onto the stage while the women in the building scream their faces off. after a few minutes of hand stands and humping the ground, the stripper makes his way to the edge of the stage to find his woman for the moment. he scans the crowd. looking for either the big or the shy girl who really wants to let her inner freak out.

what he does next is usually so disgusting and the furthest thing from a turn on that i can't even put it in words. let's just say that most times, i want to throw up in my mouth.

hes always one of these four:

1. the cop stripper

2. the fire fighter stripper

3. the generic male stripper who's "career" consists of leopard print thongs, name brand hair gel and grinding to the 106 and park's latest slow jam

4. and the cowboy stripper who is by far the worst stripper of all! this dude "works" it in cow pattern chaps and a brown leather vest and dances to ginuwine's "pony"

strippers aren't my cup of tea, but i won't knock anyone who enjoys them. i'll just write a blog about it.

#thatisall