Addicted to Charlie

I love Charlie. Not Charlie Boorman and not Charlie in the Vietnam or Class A context. I love my hairdresser. When they booked me in at Andrew Collinge (name dropper) on Castle Street and told me I would be seeing Charlie my initial thoughts were that a young man would be running his coarse hands through my hair which unsettled me a little bit. Not because I have issues but because I pay that little bit more for 'a bit of all right' to do my hair. Hey, everyone thinks it. Its just that I have such little self respect that I say it out loud.

Anyway Charlie was definitely a women if you know what I am saying. Definitely. She didn't say much though, for the best as her breath stank from here to the Wirral. She knew it as well, you know, when you know someone knows? It was really bad. My god.

Today I have been listening to by neighbour singing in the shower. You can hear it thought the ventilation pipes in the bathroom.