Toupees online dating
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Jason Statham: The movie action hero shaved his head after his hairline began to recede years ago and baldness has only made him hotter. Bruce Willis: The actor started losing his hair during his Moonlighting days, and now, the 59-year-old Die Hard star looks like a cue ball. While he sometimes wears a hair piece in movies, in real life, Willis is bald and proud.“Thank God I’m bald,” 46-year-old Statham has commented. “I’ve seen all those little digs where they try to make you feel less of a man because you’re losing your hair.
Vin Diesel: The buff The Fast and the Furious star, 46, shaved his head when his hairline started receding.I loathe her because she does not take me seriously. I think she needs to take her head out of my belly and stop giggling and saying I am cute. I try to sniff the tear to collect data, and she cries more because she thinks I am being caring. I cannot so much as stretch my arms without her thinking I am a marvel cat. She is happy most of the time but sometimes she cries. This wetness that drops from the eyeballs when a human is in pain. She hugs me close and I let her because it gets me closer to the tears. When she stretches before her jogs, I do not think anything more of her. All I am thinking when she stretches is that I want her to leave for the jog. Even I, as a cat, know she is rhythmically misunderstood. She owes me the 0 insulin and syringes that she has to order online from totaldiabetessupply.com, a website of which she is now a member. She likes to put me in funny clothes or positions, then upload them to her Facebook or her Instagram along with a snarky comment. I have no control over how the people of the internet see me. The angrier I look, the funnier she seems to think the picture is. I am trapped in this apartment with a cat whom she calls Cheese. He is overly grateful and cuddles with her because he loves her, not because he wants food. Her elbow was bloody, her hand was bloody and her knee was bloody. She cannot manage to jog on the two feet she’s been using for over twenty years. When she dances, I wonder if she hears the same music that is playing for everyone else. She owes me the prescription food that lasts for only 24 days. Because they are the kings of the animal kingdom, and I am a little domestic bitch. I try to look miserable in all of them, so her friends will not think I enjoy her company or love her.
(She doesn’t like people to know that, but I’ve released the information! She looks like a chubby mermaid who’s being denied the water she needs to move gracefully. She owes me the ,300 that has totaled my vet bills. That is why Bengal Tigers eat hyenas and tasty gazelles and I eat Hills Prescription Weight Loss Formula for Diabetic Cats.
In her i Tunes library she has ABBA, Randy Travis, The Muppets and Sean Kingston and she listens to them regularly. No one cares about drummers so I do not understand the reasoning behind this fantasy. That is what a writer has to look forward to at the very best. When she tries to dance it looks like a deer trying to walk for the first time. It is her responsibility, as the person who rescued me and gave me food, water and love out of the kindness of her heart. If I had claws like a Lion or teeth like a Great White Shark I would use them on her for switching me to this food.
She also likes to put melodramatic music on and slowly turn her head, pretending she is in the opening credits of a dramedy television show starring herself and her wacky, sugary friends. She is not an actress, so this will never come true. She should fantasize herself with greasy hair and pimples on her face, wearing a hooded sweatshirt and pajama shorts, writing at a computer in her apartment for hours, with a bowl of stir-fry on the floor and Swedish fish scattered everywhere.
There is enough hair in the drains of her bathroom to make toupees for middle-aged men. She is the prison warden preventing me from a better life. On the trip to her mother’s, I meow for the whole three hours.
One time, she put me in the car and gave me medicine and then everything went dark. I want to jump out the window like a fugitive escaping the jail cells that have confined him since 2007. They would obviously kill me for their own nourishment.
Other times I am stuck in the car for three hours and I end up at her mother’s house with another cat and a dog I want to guide into a bear trap. Every time I get in the moving car, I do not know where I will end up. I do not blame her for this because if I was not in the cage, I would indeed escape. If I befriended a motley crew of alley cats, they’d see me as a threat since I am so well-spoken and portly.