Tag: bald

#34 Brazilian head

My first wife chopped all her hair off today.  Bit of a cunt of a day really.

  • Last night with hair
  • Kissing an almost bald first wife with a mask on is a little bit shit

Well, technically she didn’t chop it off as she got her hairdresser to do it.

Even with all my fine-tuned hair cutting skills she wouldn’t let me do it. Reckons I’d give her fucked up racing stripes, spots or some other funky shit. Just goes to show how well she knows me ‘cos that’s exactly what I would’ve done.

  • A potential outcome
  • Racing stripes

She did make me come and watch it though. You know, just for torture purposes to make me cringe and feel or freaked out and shit. Watching was probably just as bad, if not worse than doing the cutting.

In all honesty I guess it was always inevitable that my first wife would lose her hair but we clung to the fact that she had amazing very thick hair and the chemo the oncologist who I’m not allowed to call a gnome even though he looks like one, is giving her was only supposed to thin her hair but not to this extent.

Even then she managed to smile

Really though, who gives a fuck man, ‘cos even though she sometimes annoys the fuck out of me I’ve still got my first wife to naggety naggety nag and believe me, she don’t need no hair to excel at that.

She doesn’t even have an ugly head under all that head of hair she had, so there’s a bonus aye. Fuck yeah!

Making bald pretty

They say try before you buy but in the early days I never really had the guts to ask her to shave her head smoothe like an egg. You know, so I could see what her head looked like just in case she ever got a cunt of a disease, like maybe bowel cancer.

Were there tears today? Fucken oath there were!  The ol’ girl shed a few, so did her poor ol’ hairdresser sheila and as for the bald cunt writing this, yeah maybe.

The quote of the day…

Marjana: My hair looked like I barely survived Chernobyl.

Me: Well fuck me wife, I don’t call ya chemo days Chernobyl sessions for no reason.

Better hair times on Straddie

A few positives though…

We could probably pay off our mortgage in a year from money saved on hairdressing shit.

Won’t need to buy any more hair products.

I can take her hair products out of our shower and now have enough space for at least two, if not three beers in there.

With all the weak wispy clumps of hair now gone my first wife no longer pulling off that dead person dug up from a grave look.

Scarecrow hairdo

If she didn’t sing like a cat whose being held by the balls, she could probably pass as a young Sinead O’Connor.

With her dance moves she could easily replace that spastic dancing cunt from Midnight Oil.

She can lay claim to being the baldest in our home.  A title that I’ve held for ages and might yet claim it back.

I don’t have to go to the bathroom to look in the mirror and can just look at my first wife instead.

Comparing whose got the baldest head

Hopefully she can get an acting job to replace that weak as shit actor Vin Diesel.

I won’t catch the cook sneakily crying when she’s brushing her hair.

I don’t have to lie to her saying I can’t even see the difference.

Once upon a time

And let’s not forget the fact, she actually feels a lot better for it.

So yeah, a massive day for us man. But it could be way way way worse so all good and nothing to see here… unless of course ya looking for spastic looking heads.

  • I want a head just like yours

#31 The slave snuck off to his laptop

So I thought I was woken up this morning by someone pouring a bucket of water over my head, but instead of water it was my first wife’s spit. Apparently I made her laugh as she was in the process of kissing me and when I told her that her spit is yum as fuck, she snorted and spat snot or spit on me again. Fuck it’s good to be loved aye.

She’d actually woken me up earlier to be honest because although she (allegedly) let me sleep in she failed to mention the fine print that while I slept she was going to leave our bedroom door open and use as many of our loudest appliances as she could. If she could’ve moved the washing machine and dishwasher closer I’m sure she would’ve but it didn’t really matter anyway because during any real quiet periods she’d do things like drop a cricket bat on her foot and scream loudly in pain.

In case that hadn’t done the trick to wake me up she then came back to bed and sat next to me while I slept. She then did her good Catholic girl thing and prayed to her God who, until then I wasn’t aware was actually deaf because why else would a nice Catholic girl pray so loudly right next to me. I’m sure God knows sign language so kinda hoping the cook can pick it up too which may help with my sleep somewhat.

  • ‘You’re an idiot’, she reckons
  • ‘A funny idiot though’

But anyway, it ain’t about me so back to this recovering sick sheila blog update…

Apologies that it’s been over a month since I last updated y’all but as far as slaves go, I reckon I’m amongst the most rooted in the history of the world. Rooted from doing renos and shit; not rooted like slaves were back in the olden days.

While on the subject of slaves I would like to mention that as far as slave masters go my first wife would be classed as ‘Level Expert’ if ya go by how much work I’ve done.

I’ll gunna have to do a few catch up blogs but first up a positive to report. The ol’ girl had a CT scan a couple weeks ago that showed the cancer has shrunk somewhat so that gets a full on ‘Fuck yeah!’ from us.

Cancer’s a cunt, man and this has without doubt been the worst thing that’s happened to us as a family since she hunted and collected me way back in 1996. But she ain’t dead yet and neither am I, and nor are our kids or any of you reading this so here’s another ‘Fuck yeah!’. Not that she’s gunna die any time soon but when good people die that sucks big time (thinking of you right now Keiley).

As I write this, my first wife is sitting next to me pinging up her Chernobyl poison and giggling at some messages she’s reading from her friends.

Best chemo companion blanket the nurse sheilas have ever seen

I think for everyone’s sake though, I need to reiterate the fact that English is her second language and all the times she’s replied to messages saying she’s getting ‘bold’ she actually meant ‘bald’. All you mates of hers who read those ‘bold’ messages must’ve thought ‘Onya girl!’ when really it’s more of a plucked chicken meme.

Two of the main reasons I married this sheila way back when, is because she had really good hair and bloody good knees too. My head’s pretty fucked up with my shit hair and with seven arthroscopies to date, my knees were always my rugby nemesis. So if I was ever gunna breed it’d be good for my kids to have good hair (for pulling chicks) and good knees (for rugby) because they got plenty of spastic whether they liked it or not.

It’s lucky for Marjana she had heaps of hair to start with because she’s loosing it quicker than those sheilas from the Hibiscus Coast lose their virginity. It’s actually a little selfish in a way (not the Coasty sheilas giving up the virginity quick as – nah you keep that tradition well and truly going I reckon) because so many other good people fucked up on cancer lose their entire head of hair quick as fuck due to the chemo they’re on, where as my cook’s chemo is only supposed to thin the hair out. To the untrained eye, it may not even look like she’s lost any but you can certainly find bold, I mean bald patches if ya scratch the surface and her puffy eyes from crying add weight to it being fact. If she didn’t have a complex before I think I just gave her one when she reads this. Sorry wife 😉

  • The result after every shower
  • One first wife’s loss is one first husband’s gain

Untold has happened since I last wrote but our lives have pretty much gone like this…

I wake up and do renos and shit, and cook and eat and drink piss and crawl into bed at the end of the day like some beat up old cunt who can hardly walk; pretty much because that’s what I am anyway.

  • Remove old kitchen and still installing new one
  • Part of new kitchen with built in wall
  • Remove window and build in wall
  • Removed old kitchen window and install new one
  • Remove sliding door and install new window on deck
  • Remove sliding door and install new one
  • Remove old window and install new
  • Who doesn’t love a trooper wife still wiling to be squashed into a car full of timber
Might not look like much but these renos fucked me big time and still ain’t finished

The ol’ first wife though will get all these lovely visits from her work mate sheilas who actually seem to be really nice and care and shit. She used to tell me they were a bunch of pain in the ass cunts at work who were feral and lazy as fuck liars and… oh actually, maybe that was the prisoners, sorry.

Work mate sheilas who most definitely aren’t feral lazy liars but are very much appreciated

Seriously though man, my first wife’s had heaps of visits lately and she digs ’em almost as much as she digs seeing me work like I’ve never worked before (except for maybe back in my ol’ man-whore days).

Most days over the last month have gone like this…

I work like an old decrepit slave.

Marjana socialises like a princess on a social dating competition.

I work like an old decrepit slave.

Marjana socialises like a princess on a social dating competition.

I work like an old decrepit slave.

Marjana socialises like a princess on a social dating competition.

Etcetera…

Another lovely gift

Your quote of the day comes from a chemo session…

Oncologist: Sometimes I can make it sound a bit worse than what it is.

Me: Oh, like a wife does when a husband leaves his clothes on the floor.

Check out her chemo affected veins, man

How can ya not love a hot Argentinean rugby fan who’s tit half falls out when she cheers. Need more of it I reckon.