The divorce left me with little more than a second hand uniform and a set of
hair styling equipment.

As a result I was only able to gain employment as a hairdresser at Mr. Mot's
"Curl Up and Dye" salon.

I spend my days hawking styling gel and conditioner.

I have recorded this story on Brown Veiny Guy's sound system and sent him
back in time in response to an ad in the "personals." The ad said he was looking
for kinky adventures, and I decided that my recent past certainly qualifies.

Sometimes I wish I could feel bad about all this.

But I just don't care.

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