The hair cut, my story.

As you all know my hair grows very fast. At home I have to get it cut every 3 weeks.
In Paris i was getting a bit woolly so decided to get it cut short.
Everywhere I looked was a bit flash, a bit French really and looked busy, so I said to Rachel that the next place I found where they weren´t too posh or busy I would go in.

So while Rach went to the post office I looked down the street and saw a small hairdresser.
While I was looking in the window this young "lady" came out and asked me if I would like a "trim." (Her voice was like Windsor Davies from It ain´t half hot mum). Thinking it would be funny to get a haircut from what was obviously a transsexual and knowing it would be a great story to tell later I headed in for the trim.
"Lola" was an interesting hairdresser, think Edward sizzorhands in a mini skirt and for 20 euros I got the second worst haircut of my life. The worst was when my mum used an attachment on the end of the vacuum cleaner when I was eleven.

Anyway thats the official version, no matter what rachel says!