Hairy tales

I cut my hair in the middle of the night. I got a haircut which I didn't like. Somehow, I can't ever tell the person who cuts my hair, be it anyone, how badly they have cut it. I mean, I tried to this time, but she didn't get it. So...I cut it myself. And now I look like those patchy haired dogs who are scratching themselves all the time. I hate my hair.
I had a dream of Bertie. He was in a really foul mood and being nasty as hell with me. Doesn't Bertie's hair look like Dylan's? I think he consciously tries to keep it that way. I just wish he'd whiten his teeth or something...or not snarl atleast.