 | | 2013-12-06 08:36
From blog The Secondhand Years
Don't f***ing swear
Ahhhh, that's better! Going to my hairdresser's is such a joy - we chat, we laugh, I drink coffee and read ridiculous magazines, and she works her magic until I emerge, newly vibrant and sleek and feeling a million times better. I look rather ladylike in this ensemble. Which is totally misleading, since I am not very ladylike at all, as most who know me will attest. In particular, my language is not that of a Lady. I swear. Rather a lot. It satisfies a need for emphasis, for drama, for humour; sometimes, only cursing like a navvy will do. I know when not to swear, of course, and am perfectly...
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