Tuesday, January 22, 2008

The worst haircut, ever.

Yesterday's little fears over the decimation of Gingeros, or Carroticus Topimus, opened a whole slew of hair related tragedy within in my early rising, newly skipping, mentally fragile self. It also posed some interesting questions. Why does straight hair turn curly? Why do we dye out hair for years when our own hair colour is lovely? Why do we straighten, curl, dye, braid, perm, highlight terrorize our poor hair so much.
I am guilty of hair torture too. Terribly guilty. I have only to close my eyes and waves of traumatically shattering memories wash over me, unbidden and unrelenting. But one hideous memory scalds the most. And it was not one of my own making.

It was the summer 1985, and I was enjoying my 13th year on this Earth. I had-through no fault of my own- fallen madly in love with a four foot nothing boy called Gary who liked me as a 'friend'. He in turn was mad about some hussy girl from Coolock who didn't know Gary existed.
It was all a bit tense in our mixed group, hormones boiled, affections and fancying were rampant yet unspoken about, jokes could be cruel and the first sign of weakness could lead to the pack turning. Because of being the youngest I had to work extra hard to be accepted. I always felt unworldly and unsophisticated and slightly stupid compared to the 15 and 16 year olds who were my peers. A fringe performer, gamma to their alpha.
We hung around arcades, played 23 hours of space invaders a day, went bonkers as soon as the sun set and resisted until the last possible second commands to return home. I let Gary know I was in love with him by being unspeakably rude to him at all times and rolling my eyes whenever he spoke to me.
But no matter which way I played the 'notice me' game, Gary was oblivious to my charms. I wore items of clothing stolen from Gamma's second husband's chest, granddaddy shirts with enormous belts, huge v-neck sweaters that smelled of mothballs and pipe tobacco and hung to my knees. I wore rubber bangles all the way up my arm, I cinched my wast in with butterfly belts, I wore plastic button earrings, I wore one green plimsoll and one yellow at the same time, I learned all the lyrics to Thriller the album, including Paul McCartney's lines in 'Say Say Say'. I was snarky, I was charming, I told jokes, I was a fast runner, I could blow smoke rings without gagging, I could jump off the swings at a really high arc, I had the highest score in Space Invaders until some lisping Cure head beat it ( I was outraged and we played doubles until neither of us could feel our fingers) I was everything a boy could want...as a friend.
Seriously hampered by a lack of boobage and the inability not to blush whenever anyone made a joke about my 'affections' I had all but given up my love quest by that hot August bank holiday weekend. With little option, I decided to be content to trail in Gary's wake, punching him in the arms and ignoring him when he spoke.
Then fate stepped in in a most unique way. My terrier-a sulky beast who looked like Freeway from Hart to Hart, bit Gary's younger brother on the calf- well I say bit, he pretty much removed a fair chunk of Gary's brother's leg, terriers shake their heads a lot when they bite things, it can and did get nasty. Then Gary's mom gave out to me, then I cried, then Gary put his arms around me, then-realising this way my opening- I sobbed all the more- then that stupid bitch started to like him, because he was 'kind'. Then I plotted to poison her. But I didn't know how.
When they snogged behind the Wendy House I pretended I didn't care, but I ran home weeping tears of rage and jealously and heart broken anguish.
Oh it was like a Greek tragedy. Unloved and broken hearted I moped around the house, getting under every one's feet, recording broken hearted songs on my Casio recorder, writing heartfelt poetry the likes the world has never seen before.
'His arms are blistered by the summer sun.
I am undone.
His eyes,
wise and open
do not see,
this heart
now broken."
(the songs were worse)
Forlorn, dejected, miserable and rejected, I trailed around after my father sighing, waiting to be asked what was wrong, so that I could sag and reply, 'Nothing.'
But it was summer and my father was busy with things arable and so my misery festered and grew like a bacteria on a damp doody. Even Etheline,-who was a bundle of rage herself because our mother had enrolled her in piano classes with a harridan in WIcklow Town whose idea of teaching was to strike her pupil's fingers when they made a mistake- gave up trying to annoy me. I was unreachable, I was besotted, I was heartsick and weary.
But then my Greek tragedy turned into an Irish travesty. And the cause of this travesty was called Carmel.
Carmel is my mother's friend. She is also an amateur hairdresser. She used to go up to an old folk's home on the weekend and set and curl hair. Because most of those old folk were in comas and not exactly compos-mentis, Carmel's confidence in her hair dressing abilities exceeded her actual skill by light years, LIGHT YEARS.
MY mother- the lilac couch, the biological incubator- had her part to play in this too. Fed up with me sighing and not eating, she went out of her way to get to the bottom of my woe. Upon learning that I was 'too ugly for life' her solution to my wretchedness lay in convincing me, a lass with shoulder length multi layered glossy hair, that my style was too 'flat' and that if I- and get this- got a 'body wave' in it, it would look so much nicer and by extension I would look so much prettier.
Now at thirteen I had yet to recognise the passive aggressive fury with which my mother regarded her youngest daughter. Back then I just thought she was a mad furious pot clatterer who took a lot of tablets, and took little notice of her. I was unaware the reach of her deviousness. And thus, in my head this 'body wave' she spoke of only meant one thing. With unflat hair I would snare Gary without having to go to the considerable trouble of training the dogs to kill on sight the hussy who had vexed me so.
And so we went to Carmel's.
I should have known I was doomed when I saw the tiny tiny curlers. For what could tiny tiny curlers produce only tiny tiny curls?
I should have realised short choppy layered hair did not suddenly sprout Rapunzel like lengths when curled. I should not have allowed her to 'give it a trim' first I should have understood that Carmel wouldn't know the difference between a 'body wave' and a camel. She was my mother's friend was she not? Who the fuck knew what kind of legally prescribed drugs they were on, nor what they saw in their own alternate universe?
I should have questioned the length she left the 'solution ' on my tightly packed bonce. Her 'whoops, I nearly forgot about you' should have pre-warned me to the coming horror, as should the slight burning of my tender scalp.
She undid the curlers and I looked with growing stomach churning fear as each tightly bound corkscrew of hair fled her stubby fingers and retreated back to my scalp.
Then she blow dried it.
And that's when the full atrocity came galloping home.
I was a mushroom.
Tight densely packed curls rose straight up halo like from my head. I looked like the world's ugliest lamb. I was Sean Penn In Carlito's Way. I was Bozo the Clowns uglier unmade up sister.
I was destroyed.
'Well.' Carmel said hovering over my shoulder. 'It will relax a bit now in the next day or so.'
MY mother put down her tea and cocked her head to one side. 'At least it has a good sensible cut to it Carmel, sure it won't be long growing out.'
I said nothing, I was rendered dumbstruck.
I was a mushroom, and mushrooms don't talk.
Suffice to say it did NOT relax any over the next few days. It stayed tightly packed until my straight hair started to grow out, this enabled me to look both flat and curly at the same time, like some Lous XIIII reject. Also the solution fried the ends to a crisp, changing the colour so that I was a piebald mushroom. I stayed close to home for the reminder of that summer composing different types of poetry.
'Evil womb bearer,
sleep well
for soon
you will
be back
in hell
from Satan's side
you did appear
to torment and
torture,
through pain
an fear.'
The 'body wave' took eight months to cut out and when the final frizzled curl fell I was utterly scalped. Short haired. Boyish. But as luck would have it my boobs decided to grow, my face lost some of it's kiddish chub and my hair style suddenly looked gamine and stylish. My mother glanced at it one day and suggested I should grow it into a bob.
I nodded and smiled and ran back upstairs to my room. I took my birthday money from FatPig and got my father to give me a lift to the hairdresser in Wicklow Town.
I sat in front of the mirror, swaddled in towels.
'So what would you like me to do?' She asked.
I smiled. 'Take it all off please. A number one all over.'
'Are you sure? It's going to be very short.'
'Yes I am.'

Labels:

51 Comments:

Blogger Twenty Major said...

haha, splendid stuff, lamby.

10:47 a.m.  
Blogger The Bad Ambassador said...

I got my "confirmation" haircut from a doddery, squinting old man in a barbers just off Walkinstown roundabout. Being way ahead of his time, he decided I needed an A-symmetrical fringe that sloped downwards from right to left.

After overcoming the initial dismay and outrage, Mammy Ambassador had to straighten it up leaving me with a fringe that wasn't a fringe. Oh the confirmation photos!

Still at least she didn't dress me in knee high socks, white shoes and little white shorts like she did for my communion.

10:58 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

You lucky sucker! Mammy's 'fixing hair' are usually to be avoided.
I was most trendy for my confirmation. I had a Crockett jacket, as in Corckett and Tubbs, Miami Vice. I believe I even rolled the sleeves mid fore arm.

12:02 p.m.  
Blogger Lou said...

I had a bad experience when I was 12, I had my DAD take me to the hairdressers when my Mum was at work. He told her I'd look nice with a fringe, not realising I have a mad cowlick. When the fringe was cut, half of it stuck STRAIGHT UP IN THE AIR. I took one look in the mirror and started sobbing, and Dad had to take me home.
Mum nearly murdered him when she got back from work. And I had to wear an hair band for about three years... The mental scars haven't left me yet, I have a pathalogical fear of hairdressers. I'd rather go to the dentist...

12:55 p.m.  
Anonymous sheepworrier said...

Great post FMC.

As a ginger child I was subjected to the most horrendous haircuts known to man, things that would make a poodle blush. Now I keep it a healthy grade 2 all over - no more ginger curls for me!

12:55 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Ah Lou, the dreaded cow's lick, bane to most short styles. I'm sure you're poor pappy felt terrible after-especially when your mammy was through with him- although not as bad as you.
Sheepie, indeed, sometimes it is THE only way.
I did that twice in my teenage years, at 14/15 and at 19, just went in and got the whole lot shorn off. The last time I had to sit in my chair, while my stylist and two more hairdressers AND the receptionist discussed whether I was serious or not. The fact that I had two teeth of an afro-comb embedded in the crow's nest atop my head seemed irrelevant to them. In the end I got my buzz cut and I skipped out of there as light as a fairy and bought enormous hoop earrings to celebrate.

I'm too old to pull that one off these days, but youth is a wonderful thing.

1:02 p.m.  
Blogger Conan Drumm said...

Did the junior's locks meself for ten years. The mothers at the school gate thought I did a great job... or were they humouring me, do you think?

1:28 p.m.  
Blogger Conan Drumm said...

ps sounds like Court-town, or an adolescent sojourn I once had in Arklow - without the hair disaster!

1:30 p.m.  
Anonymous Babs said...

I got a haircut from my Dad when I was little, I have (as my mother descibes it) airy fairy hair, meaning that it's curlyish, loads of it, but its light as a feather, Dad did not realise that a fringe would not look good with this, seeing as curly fringes were not all the rage at the time. I didn't give a shite really, it was my Mammy who gave out shite for days. I did get this layered thing when I was about 14 though, it was horrendous so I grew it out until the shortest layer was at bob length, went to the hairdressers and asked her to cut it all the one length, what she did then was unimaginable, she cut my hair the same fucking horrendous way that it was cut before, I was distraught and ran home. I didn't go back to the hairdressers until I was 19 and got them to take an inch off the ends, they did try to talk me into taking more off but I was having none of it. I still get my mother to trim my hair as I don't trust hairdressers, I actually sit there with my eyes closed, tears almost rolling down my face with "the fear". The last time I got my hair cut (last year at some stage) I got over two feet of lovely hair shorn off, but I am not going for another five years or so though so I think I can deal with that.

1:36 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Conan! Welcome back. I would kill the fatted calf, but I am off red meat so I will kill the fatted cod instead!

Babs, it strikes me that there two types of woman, women like Etheline who weekly make trips to the hairdressers for blow dries and highlight checks and what not, who are happy to sit there gossiping and flicking through Heat and OK magazine, and then women like me and thee who sigh and drag our corpses there because we've noticed not just spit ends, but great hanks of hair breaking off.
I get my hair twice a year, three times at most-whether it needs it or not- I go to the same girl and she chops a few inches off the length, tell me I should buy some expensive serum, advice which I ignore. The whole time I am there I read a book but my legs jiggles up and down with impatience.
I once made the mistake of going some where else. It was abysmal, the girl scalded/froze me, splashed water all over my face when she washed my hair, attempted to give me a head massage and then looked incredulous when I demanded she stop, chewed gum the whole time and asked me one inane question after another. By the time I left I was bubbling over with hatred for people in general and had to hurry home before I snapped.
No no, find one, a quiet one who is efficient, tip her well, see her no more that thrice a year. It's better that way.

1:47 p.m.  
Blogger gimme a minute said...

Oh, that's just fucking class.

All the pain of my adolescence just came rushing back like Keanu knowing Kung Fu.

2:05 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

I know, I know Gimmie, how we suffered. Oh why did love hurt so much. Why wasn't life like the Breakfast club? Wither my Judd Nelson?

2:14 p.m.  
Blogger grimsaburger said...

Oh, the "body wave." Has anyone ever had a successful body wave performed on their hair? Every. Single. Time. I've ever heard anyone say "I got a body wave," it was exactly as you describe. Except for me, and that's because my hair is so stick-straight it won't curl if you hold a gun to it, and believe me, I have tried. My result was a bit like your grown-out look: straight hair to about halfway down the head, which turned into swaths of irregular and unruly shapes Mom optimistically called "curls."
Body wave, indeed.

2:14 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

It was the big lie wasn't it? We poor stupid youth would resolutely say to our hairdressers,
'Now I don't want a perm'
'What about a body wave? Just to give it a bit of lift?"
'Okay!'
One misnamed perm later and we were social outcasts for months.

2:24 p.m.  
Anonymous AM in Belgium said...

Fabulous story FMC. I have only one comment: The word "Mom"?

When will you ever write that book?

2:39 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

They were Town folk, AM, I'm pretty sure that's what they called her. I would only ever say 'mother' or at a push 'Mam' myself. Or 'you there, hell spawn.'
Years ago my mother and I were barely talking (quelle surprise!) and if we had to call each other we'd refuse to use any title so we'd have to sort of make it abundantly clear who was on the phone.
I used to annoy the ever loving shit out of her by going 'But who IS this?' To which she would reply, ' You know damn well who it is.' Then would counter with 'oh, well I do NOW.'
Sigh, I miss those beautiful animus filled calls.

2:51 p.m.  
Blogger grimsaburger said...

Once in the middle of a fight, my sister said to mom, "Okay, mother!" and mom turned around, got up in her face, and said "Don't you ever call me that again!" At which point I burst into laughter.

2:55 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

aha snarf, the cheek of her.

2:56 p.m.  
Blogger Conan Drumm said...

"I used to annoy the ever loving shit out of her by going 'But who IS this?' To which she would reply, ' You know damn well who it is.' Then would counter with 'oh, well I do NOW.'"

Brilliant.

3:05 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Those halcyon days...

3:07 p.m.  
Blogger The Bad Ambassador said...

If you don't mind me asking - why the animosity?

Tell me where to go if I'm in any way out of line by the way!

3:47 p.m.  
Anonymous Sam, Problemchildbride said...

I'm of the thrice yearly school. When I was a teenager though I was wise and aloof to the passing fads of poodle-perms and feathering. I watched as my friends, one by one, fell. I would smile to myself at their folly thinking "How wise you are, Sam, how wise not to frazzle your hair to within a crispy inch of its technically dead anyway life. How wise not to emerge from the hairdressers (we didn't have salons back then) with 2, possible 3 different hairstyles going on at the same time."

And my mammy wouldn't let me. Looking back at photos of us now, it might be the single best thing she ever did for me. She just wouldn't give me the money and when, at 13, I had saved up enough of my own, I was loathe to give it all away to the hairdresser and bought roller boots instead. My dad said "That's my girl."

I still wore the plastic earrings with the coloured tights to match an' all. But it didn't have the same tied together look without the halo of dead hair surrounding my face.

4:50 p.m.  
Anonymous Sam, Problemchildbride said...

I did think about shaving the whole thing off in my late teens but I'd heard a horrible urban legend about an ingrowing hair inflaming a girl's scalp until half her head was a blister.

And I was half-worried what a phrenologist would make of my bumps.

4:54 p.m.  
Blogger John Mc said...

Brilliant. Totally relate to the teenage heartache. I used to play guitar in the church "youth choir", 5 guys, 20 girls. You can catch my motivation. However I was a small, very spotty 14 year old. I had a crush and a gorgeous girl, invited her to join the choir, ended up best friend material while she went out with this eejit, a tall good looking eejit. I wrote more heartache songs that summer...

5:23 p.m.  
Blogger Medbh said...

Sean penn in Carlito's way: Brilliant!
I, too, would rather have a crew cut.

When my sister was married in '99, I went to my mother's hairdresser and she put in the tighest pin curls that I looked like a freak and had no time to fix it. Some homeless guy looked at me, laughed, and said I looked like Benji.
I shit you not.

5:34 p.m.  
Anonymous nonny said...

Bald!!! Sweet Jesus, Think I am on the same page as Etheline, but I do not enjoy it, it is purely necessity. Most excellent post.

Do you have an email address?

6:18 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

BA- we just don't actually like each other, never have. We find each other slightly amusing and annoying in equal measure, but we don't like each other. We're like to foreigners, neither one really gets the other one. If she hadn't carried me full term and I hadn't slithered free of her birth canal we'd never mix.

Sam! Another lucky sucker, you avoided all that standing in front of mirrors crying and tying you hair back in really tight ponytails trying to get it straight. And roller boots, oh I had roller boots, with big suction caps at the front. I was terrible on them.

Oh John, unrequited love is the culprit for many a song and poem, usually terrible ones. I'm sure that tall good looking guy was a terrible bore.

Medbh, what you just described made me come up in goose bumps. It is one thing to look back through the mists of time at terrifying curls, quite another to '99. You poor darling. What are hairdresser thinking of to do that to people?

6:21 p.m.  
Anonymous laughykate said...

'Back then I just thought she was a mad furious pot clatterer who took a lot of tablets, and took little notice of her.'

Gold.

6:37 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Not totally bald Nonny, but close enough. You can email me at fatmammycat@gmail.com

6:47 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

LK, who amongst us hasn't looked at our mother's at least once and pondered just exactly goes through their heads.

6:48 p.m.  
Anonymous Sheesh said...

Memories of horror abound!

1. My mother insisted on cutting my hair (fine when you are 7; not so good at 13)
2. She hadn't a clue - A CLUE I tell you!
3. Despite 'kinky' hair (her term), she convinced me that I'd look SOOO much better with aforementioned 'body wave', age 12
4. Performed by one of the neighbours (who had a death grip on the 'cut and set' market).
5. When the memory of the body wave faded (somewhat) SHE (the mother) had said neighbour 'tidy up' my hair, and I got a mullet - of the spiky bit at the front and halfway back your head variety (lovely when teamed with quite long hair).
6. I go to a decent hairdresser now (only talks when it seems very obvious that I am in chatty mode - never!). The mother regularly comments on cut/colour, as in "ooh, I think you'd look SOOO much nicer if you had it shorter/longer/blonder/browner - according to the exact opposite of what it looks like.
7. Plagued with fluffy small-child curly hair.

I will have long straight lustrous locks in my next life!

2:30 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

"ooh, I think you'd look SOOO much nicer if you had it shorter/longer/blonder/browner - according to the exact opposite of what it looks like.'
Don't listen to her Sheesh, run away. Wear a hat, whatever but don't be swayed. Mullets, oh the eighties, the gift that keeps on giving.

7:58 a.m.  
Anonymous Sheesh said...

Never fear, never swayed! Possibly I'd go too much in the opposite direction (yes, yes, in my 30's ... going on 15).

Did you ever notice that some of the kiddies these days are super-dooper trendy, with haircuts and clothes that would've earned you social outcast status in the 80's. So they don't remember the 80's - due to not being born - but it is weird. Can remember fierce fights about clothes back then, that the wee things these days consider the absolute height, HEIGHT of coolness.

12:25 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

I noticed it in Dundrum, Pat Benetar hair cuts and batwing jumpers. I had to laugh.

9:43 a.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

My worst haircut lasted for 10 years. My mom passed away when we were young and my dad didn't have any sisters. Sooooo, he just took me with to the barber shop. My brother always got a buzz cut and I ended up with a very short boyish cut (clipped close back & sides). I was a little tomboy but I really got tired of have such short hair and looking like a boy. It wasn't until I was 12 I finally convinced him to let me grow it out a bit. I kept it long for many years but now that I'm older I'm back to short hair but, I'll never get the barber shop short cut again.

1:58 p.m.  
Anonymous viagra online said...

I think that many people have this problem, the worst haircut is the haircut of my friend, I think that if he had read it he do not have this problem.I want to say you that it is so funny,thank you.

4:12 p.m.  
Anonymous Generic Viagra said...

Your bad hair cut starts when you hear the person doing your hair saying.."uppsss", after that you know that the hair cut is not going all that good.

8:48 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

buy xanax online cheap usual dosage xanax anxiety - is .25 mg of xanax a high dose

7:28 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hello. Facebook takes a [url=http://www.onlinecraps.gd]no deposit bonus[/url] game on 888 casino administer: Facebook is expanding its efforts to alliance real-money gaming to millions of British users after announcing a seize with with the online gambling proprietorship 888 Holdings.And Bye.

4:03 a.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I create a comment whenever I appreciate a article on a
site or I have something to contribute to the conversation.

It is triggered by the sincerness communicated in the article I
browsed. And on this article "The worst haircut, ever.".

I was moved enough to drop a thought :) I do have 2 questions for
you if you tend not to mind. Is it simply me or do a few of the
responses come across as if they are left by brain dead individuals?
:-P And, if you are writing at additional social sites,
I'd like to keep up with you. Would you list every one of your social sites like your linkedin profile, Facebook page or twitter feed?

Also visit my webpage play2win

7:34 a.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Ηello there! I sіmply want to give you a big thumbs up for youг
greаt info уοu've got here on this post. I will be returning to your site for more soon.

Feel free to visit my web site; battery operated cars kids

2:12 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Brokersring.com - Learn how to turn $500 into $5,000 in a month!

[url=http://www.brokersring.com/]Make Money Online[/url] - The Secret Reveled with Binary Option

Binary Options is the way to [url=http://www.brokersring.com/]make money[/url] securely online

10:25 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Мit ԁuftendem �l wird mit H�nden, Untегаrmen, manchmаl аuch a Mаui oniоn оr dulсet оnіon, emρhatiсally use it!
lateг the massage the theгapіst vοlitіon gently wгаp her partner іn sentenсе on heг butt end, аs it's a sultry region. The tegument contains betwixt this idiom doesn't quitе an matсh
the run-in which сan, quite a Honestly, wаnt
ѕeгiousnеss.

Also visit my weblog; website

12:03 a.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hello! I just ωantеd to aѕk if you eveг have any рroblems with haсkers?
My lаѕt blog (wordpresѕ) ωaѕ hackeԁ and I enԁed up losing several wеeks of
hard wοrk duе to no backup. Do you
have any sοlutions to pгotect againѕt hackеrs?


Also vіsit my weblog treat heartburn fast

2:24 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I�m not thаt much of а onlіne reader to be honеst but your sіteѕ really nice, keеp it uρ!
I'll go ahead and bookmark your site to come back down the road. Cheers

Feel free to surf to my website ... how to lose belly fat

12:10 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hi just wanted to give you a quick heads up anԁ let you
κnow a few of the images aren't loading properly. I'm
not sure why but I thinκ іts a linkіng issuе.
I've tried it in two different web browsers and both show the same outcome.

Look into my blog: simple wood projects

11:00 a.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Unquestіonably belіeνe thаt that you ѕtated.
Үour faνourite juѕtification sеemed tο bе аt the net the simplеst factoг to take into accout of.
I ѕау tо уou, І ԁеfinitelу gеt іrkеԁ at the sаme tіmе аs people think about concеrns thаt thеy
plaіnly do not гecognize about. Υou managed
to hіt thе nаil uρon the tοp and
definеd оut the entіre thing ωithout having side-effects , fοlκs
could take a ѕignаl. Will ρrobаbly bе
baсκ to get more. Τhankѕ

Heгe is my pagе :: emergency plumbers birmingham

12:52 p.m.  
Blogger oakleyses said...

longchamp outlet online, burberry outlet online, michael kors outlet online, christian louboutin shoes, longchamp handbags, ray ban outlet, michael kors outlet online, louis vuitton outlet, oakley vault, chanel handbags, nike air max, louboutin shoes, kate spade handbags, prada handbags, louis vuitton handbags, coach outlet store online, kate spade outlet online, christian louboutin outlet, longchamp outlet, nike free, gucci handbags, louis vuitton outlet online, polo ralph lauren, louis vuitton outlet, oakley sunglasses, tiffany and co jewelry, michael kors outlet online, cheap oakley sunglasses, michael kors outlet, tiffany jewelry, burberry outlet online, ray ban sunglasses, coach outlet, louis vuitton, michael kors outlet online, prada outlet, coach purses, jordan shoes, nike shoes, tory burch outlet, nike air max, red bottom shoes, polo ralph lauren outlet, michael kors outlet store, coach outlet

12:54 a.m.  
Blogger oakleyses said...

oakley pas cher, hollister, timberland, air max, nike roshe, true religion outlet, air max pas cher, sac vanessa bruno, ralph lauren pas cher, abercrombie and fitch, new balance pas cher, north face pas cher, chaussure louboutin, hollister, longchamp pas cher, hermes pas cher, nike roshe run, lululemon, barbour, nike air force, vans pas cher, air jordan, nike blazer pas cher, michael kors canada, nike air max, louis vuitton pas cher, ray ban pas cher, guess pas cher, nike free pas cher, louis vuitton uk, nike trainers, nike free, scarpe hogan, nike air max, true religion, longchamp, ray ban uk, north face, ralph lauren, sac louis vuitton, tn pas cher, converse pas cher, burberry pas cher, nike huarache, true religion outlet, louis vuitton, mulberry, sac michael kors, lacoste pas cher, michael kors uk

12:55 a.m.  
Blogger oakleyses said...

insanity workout, mac cosmetics, vans outlet, ghd, moncler, moncler, wedding dresses, moncler outlet, abercrombie and fitch, jimmy choo shoes, north face outlet, instyler ionic styler, north face jackets, roshe run, canada goose pas cher, new balance outlet, uggs outlet, rolex watches, asics shoes, ugg outlet, soccer shoes, canada goose uk, herve leger, birkin bag, longchamp, canada goose, reebok shoes, canada goose outlet, valentino shoes, canada goose outlet, ferragamo shoes, nfl jerseys, uggs on sale, p90x workout, soccer jerseys, hollister, lululemon outlet, mcm handbags, ugg soldes, celine handbags, ugg boots, mont blanc pens, canada goose outlet, chi flat iron, bottega veneta, marc jacobs outlet, ugg, beats headphones, giuseppe zanotti, babyliss pro

12:56 a.m.  
Blogger 风骚达哥 said...

20151008 junda
Discount Ray Ban Polarized Sunglasses
Louis Vuitton Bags On Sale
oakley sunglasses,oakley vault,prescription sunglasses,polarized sunglasses,aviator sunglasses,spy sunglasses,oakleys,oakley canada,cheap oakley sunglasses,oakley frogskins,oakley holbrook,cheap sunglasses,wayfarer sunglasses,oakley standard issue,fake oakleys,oakley glasses,oakley.com,oakley prescription glasses,oakley goggles,sunglasses for men,oakley gascan,oakley store,oakleys sunglasses
Michael Kors Outlet Handbags Factory Price
nike trainers
louis vuitton outlet
Louis Vuitton Outlet USA
Real Louis Vuitton Bags
Louis Vuitton Handbags Discount Off
Oakley Vault Outlet Store Online
canada goose outlet
michael kors handbags
tory burch outlet
coach factory outlet
Michael Kors Outlet Sale Clearance
michael kors handbags
Abercrombie And Fitch Kids Online
Louis Vuitton Handbags Factory Store
louis vuitton handbags
ugg boots
Lebron James Basketball Shoes Sale
New Louis Vuitton Handbags Outlet
ugg boots clearance
canada goose outlet
timberland boots for women
Michael Kors Outlet Free Shipping
hermes birkin bag
nfl jerseys
ralph lauren uk
Gucci Outlet Online Sale

12:54 p.m.  

Post a Comment

<< Home