Bunnings Warehouse

I'm not sure you'll mark this, what with it being late and all, but I do hope you are reading it anyway.

So after two/three frustrating days without internet, it is finally back and I've come prepared. This will explain everything, hopefully:

I WANT TO STAB TECHNOLOGY IN ITS COLD, METAL HEART. I am even more annoyed than I was in my previous blog and that is pretty bloody annoyed. So I thought that because my internet was being a piece of crap yesterday that today it would feel better. To save time I typed my blog entry up in a word document. BUT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Does it bloody work today? –KEYBOARD SLAM/RAGE-

So here’s what I typed on my word document, which at times is more hormonal than a pubescent boy:

I absolutely HATE you, technology. Why is it that when something important is due you just have to run out of ink or stuff up or refuse to cooperate? Do you think this is funny? Well, it’s not.

I had a brilliant light bulb moment and was about to share it all with you, when my internet decided that it’d be funny to annoy me again by not connecting. Seriously, I’d hit you if you were tangible.

Anyway, here’s something that’s relevant to shampoo and hair-washing:

Pantene Pro-V claims that within one week it will repair your hair in the following ways:

- less split ends
- manageable
- smooth
- shine
- nourish
- strong
- soft

Now to our breaking story!

Well you know how I don’t have a scale spring thing…I was thinking could I test the strength of my hair based on how many strands fell out? Like, could I just wash my hair with a different shampoo each night, whilst somehow ensuring that the same amount of each shampoo is used, time taken and temperature of the water and then comb it through in the morning and then count the number of strands that came out…or is that not scientific enough, dodgy and consists of too many variables?

On a completely random and light-hearted note, want to hear a joke? Too bad. You have no choice.
Q: What did the banana say to the doctor?
A: ‘I’m not peeling well’

And with that, I must bid you all farewell for tonight. Bonsoir!

So yeah...desperate times call for desperate measures.
Now I'm going to go before my eyeballs fall out of their eye socket.