Death to Spiders

I just got the crap scared out of me. A few nights ago I put my toothbrush back in it's holder only to see this ginourmous (possible Brown Recluse) spider come crawling out. First instinct was to yell, "I just had my mouth on that toothbrush you bastard!!!"second instinct was to squash him.

(Insert Public Service announcement; I don't typically kill spiders, I in fact like to put them outside but this little bastard was angry...and asking for it by putting his spider feet on my personal items)

Assessing my situation I realized squashing him was out since he was so fast he ran behind my mirror. So I went for instinct numero tres. Run like hell for the can of Raid and stare at the mirror for 45 minutes until he comes out the other side. I shoot the Raid at him and amazingly he kamikaze jumps out of the streams way and uses military tactics to repel down the mirror on his web at high speeds. I turned into a mad woman and shot Raid all over the mirror & sink. I then watched him twitch until he was dead.

So since then I keep having nightmares that the spider wasn't really dead or that his spider posse is gonna get me in my sleep. I do firmly believe that once you kill one (even if he deserved it) the others know and you will continually get bombarded by attacks for at least 3 months (trust me I know by experience)

So today I decided I should finally clean up the yard after our "Non hurricane, hurricane". All goes well until the last pile of pine straw. As soon as I pick it up I notice a family of spiders (ok they're not really a family unless it's acceptable in spiderland to interracial date between like 5 different species). I run quickly and toss the straw. No problem...definitely time to go back inside where it's somewhat safe. No sooner to I step inside but I feel something crawling up my upper chest area towards my neck. Mere seconds before panic mode sets in and I start smacking myself violently, it hops off me....yep it hopped wight off. I look down and it's the tiniest cutest wittle tree frog. (insert sigh of relief). Awwwww, took me forever to catch him and unlike the spider I set this little guy go so he could hop off into wittle froggyland.

McFarty Pants

While sitting at dinner last night and conversing about my friends girlfriend who won't fart for a year and then lets out the built up cloud of gas strait from the depths of hell, I thought of something.
Yes McFartypants gave me a genius idea. As many know, I am a hair Stylist. Well think about the torture someone like me endures when a case of gas hits? If I am in the middle of doing someones' hair, I can't move. If I excuse myself it trails me back and holding it just never seems to be an option. I usually just grab my blow drier (if timing is appropriate) and claim I'm blowing the snippets of hair off their neck while conveniently having bad aim to wisp away the stinky doomdom from my ass.
There seems to be some miraculous new technology with air neutralizers. These sprays are amazing but unfortunately I think my client might figure out what I'm up to if I were to stop what I'm doing and start spraying it in the general vicinity.So I think someone needs to make a pair of underwear with a type of ventilation filter built into the ass. Like an air neutralizing trap for gas! I mean seriously, it wouldn't be that hard to do and it wouldn't need to be bulky. Just a pocket in the back of your undies where you place the new pad each time you wear through one. It could even have a little censor meter that tells you when the little ionic particles run low and it needs to be changed.
Now to find financial backing for my invention...someone will steal this idea for sure!

damnit

Evil people

Quite a few years after high school a former classmate of mine who I hadn't seen since, walked into my place of work. He apologized for being mean to me back in the day. It was a nice gesture and I let him know it wasn't necessary because he never bothered me like some of the true bullies in high school. The two of us would jokingly pick on each other so there for we were even. We've been friends since then.

This past weekend I found myself and a few other friends walking through the woods on an exploration quest. We soon discovered that it was spider season. There were enough "Writing spiders" (aka Garden spiders) to make even the most non squeamish person be on guard. This particular type of spider is HUGE and about as harmless as a little fluffy newborn puppy but is as scary looking as HR Geiger's Alien on a bad hair day. These spiders create massive webs which we were constantly figuring out how to avoid.

In an attempt to be nice I fell a little behind the rest of the group to save my friend Scott who quit paying attention and started talking on his cell phone from walking into one. We ducked and picked up the pace to catch up. I started to forget about the looming doom when my "friends" (notice the quotation marks around friends) mentioned something in the woods to my right. I looked over at it and kept walking. About 10 feet goes by when I hear my boyfriend very firmly and very loudly say "EMILY!!! STOP!!!" without hesitation like Pavlov's dog hearing the dinner bell ring, I froze with extreme intensity knowing what I was about to see hanging mere inches from my face.

After my near death experience subsided I looked past the beastly creature to see the rest of the group laughing hysterically and talking about how priceless my face was. My first instinct was to yell at my boyfriend since he's the one who told me to stop; obviously it was his idea "You are in so much trouble mister!!!" he immediately points to my old friend from high school "It was his idea!" I look towards him when he says "I was going to let you keep walking."

You are soooooooo going down...we were even once; but not now. It's on like Donkey Kong. Just you wait.

Mutt Whiskey

Once upon a time I had a dog; it was a brief stint. I had walked by one of the Saturday pet adoptions on the sidewalk down the way from my work. Upon walking by and not seeing a dog that tugged properly at my heart strings I noticed a burnt orange tail peeking out from under a table. I asked to see the pup. It was an adorable mutt named Wispy. “Wispy?” I thought “That’s a dumb name for a boy dog!” going on the color of his fur and drunken demeanor which I later found out was due to bad hips, I deemed the pup “Whiskey”. It was a good name. Somewhere in my mind I thought “I am ready for this.” I must have been crazy. I filled out some papers and took Whiskey on as a foster dog until I was ready to adopt or in my case they found him a home before I was ready. During Whiskey’s stay at my home I took him for walks downtown. I started noticing a prejudice towards this awesome dog. People would constantly walk up to other dogs and pet them, yet they would ignore mine. At some point someone walked up to a dog Whiskey was sniffing and started with the goo goo, gaa gaa child voice over this obviously superior breed of a dog and asked what kind it was. I don’t remember but it was some kind of dumb half breed cocktail of a dog like a Puggle or a Labradoodle and let’s be honest people; IT’S A MUTT!!! (Especially if it’s not in my spell check) Sheesh you would think I had a zit riddled teenager who had just joined the 9^th grade. I look at the lady and said “Don’t you want to know what breed my dog is?” There was a bit of a pause and an uncomfortable reluctant “ooooook” from her. I smiled and announced quite valiantly “He’s one hundred percent pure bred mutt!” I smiled and walked away.

My Scissors need love in Wilmington

As life would have it I have officially come full circle and am living back in Wilmington, NC. (ta-daaa!!!) I am working at a wonderful salon called the Works and am in the process of building my clients so please stop by and see me as well as reposting this to anyone in Wilmington who might need a fun hair dresser such as lil ole me. I specialize in new, hip & trendy haircuts as well as color.
Men's cuts are only $15 (includes a wash)
Womans cuts are $20 wet or $30 (including wash & Dry)
Call for pricing on color/highlights as it varies
Thanks for stopping in and I look forward to brutally severing your strands of hair with my sharp scissors!
Here's my business card






















EMILY :)
The Works Salon
112 N.Cardinal DR.
Wilmington, NC
910-395-0700 ext.104

Funeral Flowers

Their are certain things you should avoid if you are a hairdresser. A major one would be eating anything that will cause you to blow a hole in the back of your pants. For some unknown reason I decided it would be a good idea to eat a bag full of fresh cherries before starting my eight hour shift. Towards the end my stomach started percolating and the clenching began. As I said goodbye to my last client, pushing them out the door in a hurry, I sighed with relief allowing hurricane force winds to escape from my buttocks. Mmmmm that was nice...*sniff sniff* GOOD GOD!!! that's an impressive scent. Right as I start to think all is well I hear a voice coming from the side of me say "I smell funeral flowers?! You smell that?" It was Pete our stereotypical resident gay hairdresser. I start to blush and giggle, barely containing my laughter I peep out "Noooooo I don't smell anything." and he responds with "You don't smell carnations?" I quickly pondered if my ass was capable of smelling like carnations and realized he wasn't talking about me at all. I started to laugh and he looked at me with the confused puppy dog face. I believe we have coined a new phrase.