Here's a thing though. I'm sitting here now with a heated face mask on. Quite a treat I have to say. Now I couldn't do that without ridicule with folk mooching about my place, however it creates the Monday morning illusion of being a picture of health. I watched a Disney film before and chuckled at talking dogs, and I'm currently eating a massive block of cheese. No crackers or owt just lobbing squares off as I go. In short, it's better for the world if I have alone time, cos no ****ers wants to see what goes on round here. Haha.
Don't even care me mate, I'm 35 and usually pass for mid twenties. I'm happy to try and keep that going as long as possible, although I have spotted the odd grey and I'm gonna try silver fox before I panic. Some folk it works for. Ha.
The way I see it, my grandad, a big ****ing monster of a man, butch as they come but he was always, always looking after his skin, always in a collar, hair slicked back, immaculate. It's not a new thing to not want to look like a train wreck. Ha.
Me da was the double of charles bronson. Every **** called him charlie. Even though hes called Joe. Hes grey now. (Well he is 70plus so its avceptable) Never worried about hair loss. I will not be a tut tut baldy nut. Maybe charlie was a co word in the 70s also. **** me da was a dealer. For wigs.
Love my own space. I don't think she gets it but she gives me my own space when I need it. Can't ask for much more really.