Allow me to demonstrate
Okay, so I guess this is the second fascinating question that I'll put in my nonexistent FAQ:
How in God's name do you cut your own hair?
Answer: It's easy! Especially if you don't care if it looks like shit you're not particularly fastidious and have a good hat to wear if you accidentally make a bald spot.
Wake up and have your husband tell you your head looks like a duck's ass.
Retort smartly, "Oh, if only my head could look more like a duck's ass."
Rusty scissors? Check.
Take off the sweater that earlier in the day your husband mimed unzipping, removing from your shoulders, balling up, and throwing in the garbage. Also remove fabulous glasses. We're flying blind now, baby!
Now, was that so hard?
Grab a hunk off the back and try not to lop off your thumb.
I have no idea what I'm doing.
La la la. Ooh! I have a hairy monkey neck.
And now I will do this interpretive dance to express how I feel about home haircuts.
Yeah, I know what you're thinking: This is supposed to be an improvement?
Voilà! A Braun clipper with a dead battery.
Don't have a fucking clue what's going on back there.
Maybe this dirty old Aveda compact will assist in making the cords in my neck stand out just that much more.
A shower has rinsed away all the tiny little itchy hairs that get stuck in your bra and drive you MAD.
Believe me, if you're looking for some shit to paste into your hair that will make you smell like a piña colada, look no further.
A vigorous scalp massage increases blood flow to the follicles, which allows the piña colada mix to reach deep down into your brain, thus creating A Tasty Zombie Treat™!
I had to brighten the hell out of this photo just so you could see what's going on with that paste stuff. Shit is miraculous.
The transformation back to pinhead is complete!