“Hello, I’m Donna Martin, and I’m wearing a necktie.”
“Also, I hate my hair. It’s dry, my roots are awful, and frankly, I have three pounds of AquaNet in it right now. If it falls down, it will land so hard it undoes my nose job.”
“Wait a second… I know how to fix this. I know EXACTLY what to do:
“That’s right, drink me in, boys. It’d be like making out with Nicolas Cage at his finest. You know the Vanilla Mullet is the smoothest milkshake in town.”
“…Or… maybe not? Oh, God…”
“WHAT HAVE I DONE? Is this why Ray Pruit smashed the pumpkins on my porch? IS IT?”
“This is better, right? I mean, it’s so… gelled! Gel is always better! Am I right, actor Greg Vaughan, who was on our 90210 twice as two different people and then on the new 90210 as an entirely different third character? Yes. I am right.”
“Okay, so I was wrong. Does THIS help? You know, putting all these pins and stuff into it so that it looks real complicated?”
“Uh, never mind, Clare, don’t answer that.”
“Listen, clearly desperate times call for desperate measures. Maybe if my boobs keep mysteriously growing, nobody will notice that I gave myself blonde highlights with a white-out bottle.”
“Sigh. No. Nothing worked. I don’t even want to REMEMBER the time I had carrot-orange hair with really short, thick bangs straight across my forehead. Like, I’ve blanked that out, you know? Much like this is the only photo in which I display any interest in, or rudimentary knowledge of the existence of, a place that uses strange symbol thingamies in place of American letterbet. Life is hard. This hair is terrible. And I’m out of options. There is only one thing left for me to do.”
“VICTORY!”
