I don't know if I can go back to my hair stylist after this morning. I went for a good, longish run last night and then ate a whole frozen pizza. My hair appointment was at 10AM today which is precisely when my digestive system decided it was time to expel an oily, miserable shit. It's a fairly small salon, with an open ceiling concept, so there's no roof over the toilet to hot box my filthy butt odor. The walls go up, like, 12 feet and then it's open-air for another 10-15 feet up to the actual ceiling. My rancid ass fog rained down upon all due to the ceiling fans, because it gets a little warm in the establishment. This was right before my appointment, while she was cleaning up from her last one, and the bathroom door is about 15 feet from her station. So the next half hour was uncomfortable for everybody there, as my rank colon air product swirled around the joint, redolent with foul spices.
I probably have to cancel my next appointment, right?
I think his ego is more powerful than his dimentia and it'll carry him through this term. If he manages to win re-ellection, tho (Kahless, help us all), then it's a race between he or this country imploding.