Hi, It's Sally. Starlet.
I feel the need to express my inner beingness by fully exploring the pain I feel at the passing of an icon.
Farrah Fawcett.
Farrah's contributions to my life and my art can be summed up in one statement:
I have fabulous hair.
Farrah was the first person who helped me to fully realize that hair is a fashion accessory just as important as jewelry or bags or even shoes. Actually probably more important, cuz you can't really change your hair on a daily basis unless you invest in some killer wigs.
There is a whole slew of idiot boys out there like Moron-athon (see below) - who hung Farrah's iconic poster on their wall when they were kids thinking that her smoking bod was their proof positive that they were not gay. But I say to you that those same idiot boys can be seen prancing around NYC, in metro sexual clothes and Farrah's feathered hair. So really, who do they think they are fooling?
Hair is a daily expression of my mood, my spirit and yes, I will say it my soul.
Now I am not necessarily saying that your soul is not as awesome if you have bad, or dry, or frizzy hair like some people I work with, who I will not name, but may or may not be currently working on a script called Love is a Collard Green, that is totally lame and a waste of our precious natural resources such as film, and editing equipment. But I have noticed the coronary (see below).
Also Bernard is yelling that Michael Jackson died to which I am saying no comment, because I am not one hundred percent convinced yet that this is not a majorly brilliant publicity stunt and that MJ is going to rise from the grave.
There is no way someone that fabulous could die that young.
1. Jedi watch note: Jonathon would like it noted that he NEVER hung Farrah's poster on his wall, only Leia in the gold bikini. And that every day he strives to emulate the hair of Han.
2. Bernice here- I think that Sally meant corollary here, but she is not responding as she is busy maintaining the creation of her Farrah Fawcett reenactment wall.
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