Hair-Raiser

Did Dick Dastardly loose his evil mustache? Has he finally received his up-and-commance for sabotaging every Wacky-Racer in his relentless pursuit of victory and the pretty in pink, Penelope Pitstop? Or is that what’s left of Muttley, the carnage loving canine in cahoots with Dastardly?

Afraid not. Continuing this months theme, this post falls under the gross and gruesome category. So what is that – that thing?

Shower rats; slathered and swirled against the tile wall. Long hair, as lush and flowing as it is, shouldn’t flow into the drain pipe and wreaks all kinds of plumbing havoc if it does. The grate catches some, but most escape to their nests in the p-trap only to mutate and grow into something much more sinister that some poor sap (dear, darling hubby) has the pleasure of resurrecting and disposing of.

I suppose it’s a bad habit, but I can’t help the fact that my hair falls out. Remembering to send them to the trash bin, I can work on that. No unsuspecting, sleepy-headed, hygiene seeking person should suffer a rat attack from underneath the showerhead; even the very manliness of men.

There are other, fabulously-tressed women out there who have rat problems of their own, I stand with you in this horrid yet necessary battle for beauty.

Trying to save the plumbing, one rat at a time.

Labels: Random Thoughts