Witches of Fleet Street
I imagine new reasons to stay inside the Hermit Cave all the time. Today I get my hair cut, which is always an endeavor to get me to do. It’s really easy to call I–, but something inside stops me, or I find something to stop me. I used to think that the feeling was laziness, but hermit vision strikes again.
Imagine a coven of stylists whose sole purpose is to control others through (you guessed it) hair clippings. Not only would they have access to the hair clippings of many many people, they’d have also have a considerable store of clippings from their regulars.
As my hair gets styled, more and more of my clippings add to the coven’s power. If I’m a repeat customer (which I am), then a single stylist gains access to all of my power. Through hair.
The only solution I can think of is to stop growing hair. Okay, maybe I can think of a better solution a little later on. Maybe I can cut the hair myself so that the power remains with me.
Yes. That’s it…
felixnation :: Oct.06.2008 :: Fashion Police, Hermit Cave, People, friends, strangers :: No Comments »