since coming into this world kicking, screaming and covered in amniotic goo nearly a quarter century ago, i have been called many a name. i know for a fact that the bulk of you are flashing on a nickname or two as you read these words but honestly, "sexy lexy" barely scratches the surface.
the first was "furry," as i was born with enough fringe that my own mother mistook me for a small labrador, thus forcing her to recount the events of the night of my conception with painstaking detail. "cutthroat" came next, the adjective of choice from my preschool teachers each time my parents were called in to discuss why i felt it necessary to bodyslam any student that dared to cut in front of me in the lunch/recess/bathroom line. it's hard to pinpoint the first occurrence of "hellion" but the time cousin nick and i convinced little mike that the bowl of mayonnaise on the condiment table at the family barbecue was vanilla pudding is a pretty good guess. "potty-mouth" is a bit more difficult, however, as i was most likely a sailor or truck driver in a past life and that shit (there i go again) is ingrained in my dna. guess i'm just the bad seed your parents warned you about, minus the motorcycle, five o'clock shadow and pocket full of roofies.
truth be told, i don't strive to be a crappy person. i have never been one to kick puppies or pick off pigeons with a slingshot. while my taste for red meat will never be fully curbed, the thought of wearing fur - real or faux - kinda creeps me out (not to mention makes me feel a little prostitutey). for godsakes, i even get mad when i see parents putting their kids on leashes..and i fucking HATE kids. see, friends, i'm not a total asshole. despite that affirmation, i needed to prove to myself that i was indeed capable of being truly selfless. how so, you ask? in the form of follicles.
aside from an asymmetrical dorothy hamill in grade three and an equally ill-advised pixie cut in grade four, i have always had long, brown locks flowing from my scalp. sleek and shiny, my hair resembled those obnoxiously perfect, light-reflecting strands blown about by a wind machine in every pantene commercial ever made. now? still ad-worthy..but more so in a mussed, choppy bedhead sort of way. not a posh spice/katie holmes love child 'do or a get the carpool to soccer practice before whipping up a three-course meal coif..just a lex looks freakin' sweet bob, as 10 inches of chocolate-colored locks are now in a padded envelope on their way to florida to become part of a wig for a child with cancer. stylish and sensitive? yes, i do exist and no i will not make out with you.
..i may look cute but waking up an extra 20 minutes early to fight with my blowdryer is so not cool,
lex
the first was "furry," as i was born with enough fringe that my own mother mistook me for a small labrador, thus forcing her to recount the events of the night of my conception with painstaking detail. "cutthroat" came next, the adjective of choice from my preschool teachers each time my parents were called in to discuss why i felt it necessary to bodyslam any student that dared to cut in front of me in the lunch/recess/bathroom line. it's hard to pinpoint the first occurrence of "hellion" but the time cousin nick and i convinced little mike that the bowl of mayonnaise on the condiment table at the family barbecue was vanilla pudding is a pretty good guess. "potty-mouth" is a bit more difficult, however, as i was most likely a sailor or truck driver in a past life and that shit (there i go again) is ingrained in my dna. guess i'm just the bad seed your parents warned you about, minus the motorcycle, five o'clock shadow and pocket full of roofies.
truth be told, i don't strive to be a crappy person. i have never been one to kick puppies or pick off pigeons with a slingshot. while my taste for red meat will never be fully curbed, the thought of wearing fur - real or faux - kinda creeps me out (not to mention makes me feel a little prostitutey). for godsakes, i even get mad when i see parents putting their kids on leashes..and i fucking HATE kids. see, friends, i'm not a total asshole. despite that affirmation, i needed to prove to myself that i was indeed capable of being truly selfless. how so, you ask? in the form of follicles.
aside from an asymmetrical dorothy hamill in grade three and an equally ill-advised pixie cut in grade four, i have always had long, brown locks flowing from my scalp. sleek and shiny, my hair resembled those obnoxiously perfect, light-reflecting strands blown about by a wind machine in every pantene commercial ever made. now? still ad-worthy..but more so in a mussed, choppy bedhead sort of way. not a posh spice/katie holmes love child 'do or a get the carpool to soccer practice before whipping up a three-course meal coif..just a lex looks freakin' sweet bob, as 10 inches of chocolate-colored locks are now in a padded envelope on their way to florida to become part of a wig for a child with cancer. stylish and sensitive? yes, i do exist and no i will not make out with you.
..i may look cute but waking up an extra 20 minutes early to fight with my blowdryer is so not cool,
lex
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