Fastest Pooper in the World Loses Hair in Edward Scissorhandesque Massacre

I did it. Well this gal named Angela did it for me, actually. My hair is gone. Like, half of it. I now have a super short angled bob, but Sheila thinks it looks good and I am talking myself into liking it. Do any of you find yourselves telling yourselves to breathe? Or is it just me? I have realized that I have been telling myself to breathe A LOT lately. And I am thinking that's not exactly a good thing. Regardless, this afternoon was one of those times I had to conciously tell myself to breathe. I was sitting in the chair watching all of my hair hit the ground and seeing her use the razor and swipe my hair with it and felt the painful mixture of wanting to cry and choke on my tongue at the same time. And then I breathed. And I am alive, so it's all better. But you know it's a bad sign when the first thing you want is a drink as soon as you leave the hair salon. Sheila left me to go shopping and I panicked like a little kid, and wanted to go grab a beer. Don't worry, I got a beer and everything starting to turn around for the better.
Oh! And I got phantom pains today too, when I was getting my hair cut! It was kinda funny, I was in the chair and jumped a little bit when Angela started ran the scissors close to my eyebrow. (Every time I get a hair cut when I wear my eyebrow ring, and I mean EVERY time, it gets swiped with the scissors or the comb. It's not fun)
Ok, for the second time I told myself to breathe recently. I was cleaning/doing inventory at work and I am the shortest person on the planet, but was standing on the counter organizing a gazillion shelves, right next to our grill. Needless to say the ventilation hood doesn't work so good at the edge of the hood and all the gas fumes hit me. I was up there for a good 40 minutes to an hour, and man did I feel tipsy. To the point where I was imagining myself falling into the sink and onto the ground in front of the entire restaurant. I imagined a good 5 falling scenes that all winded up with me on the ground amidst a million hot sauce bottles.
It didn't happen. Probably because I told myself to breathe and got my ass off the shelf and breathed non-contaminated air. I should have done the inventory when I started work. Maybe I should start huffing. I've never tried it, but man, my tummy got all fuzzy and I got a headache and started feeling like I was doing some heavy drugs. Don't be surprized if you come in to see me at burritoville and the hood fans are off and I'm standing by the gas line.

What else...Sheila and I checked out Finn and Porter, and it's pretty nice. We were underdressed, but sat out in the "Lounge" hotel bar and got hooked up by this old dude smoking a stogie named Tony. He bought us a round of wine (must be the new hair cuts) and man, I got pretty drunk (enough to trip up the stairs and make O's night) off of like 2 glasses of wine, what is happening to me? It must be the gas fumes.

Where is this post going? I'm just filling in the blanks in the last few days...so I may attempt bartending again as I am finding the need for money. The clientele seem to be older, but drink like fishes, and this was a Tuesday...we'll see.

One more thing before I stalk some blogs and hit the sack with my new head o' hair. I got this new nifty site meter and I can see where my "audience" is from and how they found out about me. I am stalking YOU now, people. Well, this dude (maybe it's a chick, I don't know that much about stalking yet) from Ohio found my site by searching "fastest pooper in the world" on a yahoo search engine. Ok. Should I be happy that you found my site, or freaked out that my site comes up with that phrase? And WHAT on earth were you looking for? An amazing ass hole, a pooper scooper? Are you trying to see if anyone shits faster than you? Or your dog? I am not a fast pooper to my knowledge...Regardless, Yahoo picked me up because my blog was originally called "Joy's World", but that was boring so I changed the title. So there's the "World" part...and the pooper part is on my blog somewhere, probably talking about Bandit or O...and the "fastest" is about me interviewing the fastest bartenders in DC for the magazine. But my site came up TWICE on the first page of search results for the fastest pooper in the world...I hope you found what you were looking for, buddy, but I'm flattered you stalked me. Keep it up, and I will fill you in on the length of my dumps in the future if they are exciting.