His Defense Is..."I Was Raised By Two Women"

The greatest thing ever about being on Percocet around the clock is not being able to drive. This means I have company when I get my nails done. This also means that the company has an opinion on what my nails should look like, forgetting that I always do classic French. Always. The driver sat on the couch and pretty much kept his mouth quiet, whilst Evan pulled his chair thisclose to me and somehow convinced me that I needed color. Bright bright bright color. I wavered. I hedged.

I always chip my nails, I'm so clumsy!

Buy the bottle! You can spackle!

Really? I should do color? I think I like it. What does it say there? Nantucket of Sewer?

Oh my God MOM! The color is Manicurist of Seville! The writing looks nothing like what you just said!

Dude, I don't have my glasses on and everything is in a Percocet haze! And why are you telling me how I should do my nails?

Look, I was raised by a mom and grandmother! Raised by two women, I can't help it!

Yeah, poor you, being forced into knowing what looks good.






So now they have to take me back on Monday to get my St. Petersburgandy toes to match. I like to be country coordinated if possible.