Consider this your notice. In a few hours, you will be meeting your doom. I am no longer going to put up with your shenanigans and have every intention of making your attempts to show up in every part of my room, bed, clothing, kitchen, laundry room, bathroom drain, and even my shoes, to an end. I have been kind and turned my head at the times where you have matted yourself around my tank top straps while in the washing machine, but when my housemate tells me that he finds you in his laundry, I draw the line!
I also don't appreciate how you always tend to blow into my armpit while I walk in the wind, because it makes it difficult for me to turn my head! Also, I don't like how you trap my head when I sit down because you find a nice cosy spot between my lower back and the back of the chair. You apparently like my cooking as you make your way into my food much too often, which causes the odd conversation with my husband about having to wear a hairnet like a cafeteria woman. Branden also doesn't appreciate that you like to find yourself down his shirts and even in his beard.
We've had a good run and maybe I should be blaming my age instead of you for finding strands of you everywhere, but oh well, you have no choice. I'm taking you in and I just hope my frustration with you doesn't cause me to mutilate you to oblivion. I would like to keep you long but you need to learn to cooperate. Luckily, my round face has put in a good word for keeping you long so I may just listen, but you will definitely pay a hefty price today.
Farewell and good luck. I do hope you survive but I also hope you suffer a bit...like the suffering you put me through when I accidentally inhale you when you blow into my mouth and you practically visited my stomach, causing much gagging when I have to pull you out!]
Before (stay tuned for after)
I also have to note that my hair actually looks fairly decent in that shot. Don't let it fool you! It's just trying to make a last attempt at saving itself!