Highlights

"You alright, mate? What you up to now?"

"Not a lot."

"Okay what time you working tomorrow?"

"1pm til late"

"Good. Can you come around and take me to Tescos now please. I fucked up my hair and I need some Ash Toner"


---

I am standing in the middle of the supermarket on a warm June evening. It is close to 11pm and I am the only mother fucker in the whole of the shop wearing a wooly hat. I am staring at the shelves looking at hair dye, bleach, highlighter, pre-lighter, colourants and various assortments.... but there is no mother fucking ash toner.

This means I am in big trouble.

My only choice is to get more bleach and just bleach the living fuck out of my hair even more to destroy this awful yellow daffodil hue that is giving a signal flare to every wasp and bee in London demanding that they 'come get some.'

As i write this now, I have the bleach on my hair.... God only knows what I am going to look like.