When you haven’t had sex in one or two (*ahem* three *ahem*) months (I’m on a man hiatus, don’t judge)…it is a terrible wonderful idea to go and get your hair done by your fairly good looking (straight!) hairdresser guy…the one with the half-sleeves of tattoos.  Have I mentioned how much I love tattoos??

The whole “let me massage your head while I shampoo you” thing?  That takes you new and wonderful places.

It really is almost worth tapping into my reserves (hairdresser boy has a girlfriend, btw) and just throwing my resolve out the window.

But then I remember how much trouble they always end up being, and why I went on hiatus in the first place, and I figure I’ll just..uh…deal with that one on my own.

Again.