Pinky And The Brain
A few weeks ago I found some brand new wigs on the sidewalk. I mean they still had the tags on them and everything. And I brought them home because I love wigs and these hairpieces seemed a lot fancier than my usual Halloween Costume quality. I didn’t write about it the time as I wasn’t sure if wearing abandoned wigs sounded unseemly or not. Especially during a pandemic. I left them outside to freeze out any potential cooties and quarantined them just in case.
Here’s a picture of me wearing the pink version along with a pair of cheap sunglasses that I bought at the Dollarama (today was going out to the post office/pharmacy/shopping day and Dollarama has better prices on certain dry goods than the supermarket). They were in a the St. Patrick’s Day tchotchke section and were labelled as Shamrock glasses, even though a shamrock has three leaves — four at best — and these have five
In an unrelated bit of business, my niece got one of those cricut machines and can now create her own iron on transfers. I saw this image somewhere on the internet and now I want her to do pink sparkly ones for my jeans. Pink, to match my wig of course.