I would just like to say a quick, hearty FUCK YOU to knotty boy.
Usually I do a shampoo, its a random rotation of dawn soap, Neutrogena T-gel, and various awesome Lush Soaps, Which I do everyday or, if I'm lazy, at least every other day.
Well, my scalp has been itchin like a dirty whore lately. I'm hoping its because my roots are finally starting to lock up. In fact, that's what I'm telling myself. If you say something enough, it'l happen. That's quantum, baby.(go see what the bleep? and down the rabbit hole! NOW!)
Many ACV and baking soda rinses later, the itchies are driving me even more mental then I usually am in my normal, day to day life. This, of course, is not a good thing, as it may lead to someone having me commited.
So, I figure, hey, I still have half a bar of that knotty boy tea tree oil soap in my big shampoo bar popcorn bowl (no. seriously. it's a bowl that says "popcorn" on the side, but It's fulla shampoo bars. it's cute.)
I lather up, rinse as usual.
Except, MY DREADS NOW FEEL GROSS AND DIRTY. Like I have wax on them. And there's no way that I'm just gettin residual wax out of them, because I have been washing them with detergents and dawn soap and baking soda and acv all sorts of things immaginable since they were 2 months old. They were still very very loose then. I stopped using wax at 2 weeks. There ain't no wax in there.
I rinsed and rinsed. The feeling only lessened, it didn't go away.
I get out of the shower, and they're frizzy as fuck. Usually everytime I wash, they're a tiny bit tighter, and a tiny bit more awesome. This time, I have a huge halo of loose hair everywhere, my ends are all fucked, and they feel a tiny tiny bit looser. Not to mention, they feel fucking DIRTY.
I'm going to be doing a baking soda+ACV tonight. and then have a pure water bath and just let them soak and soak and get everything out. Who needs to go out on a Friday night when you have weed, Amy winehouse, and Chuck Palanhuik to keep you company? Besides. I'm going to mushroom valley tomorrow. I need to have some me time to recoup my hair.
So. Hey. Knotty boy? DIE IN A FIRE.
oh. and, pre-knotty boy fucking my head up:
His name is Bob, and he understands me.
I want to steal him.
I want to steal him.