A different rant about quality control and a trippy trip to wally world.

I try to keep a spare bottle of hair dye on hand for touching up my plumage. (Being the beautiful and rare “Blue Crested Weirdo” is hard work after all) So, once I crack open the last bottle, I order a new one. 

Yeah, I have to order them because I can’t find any place around here to buy them.
My particular shade of blue is made by Jerome Russell’s  Punky Colors. I use the Atlantic Blue. It’s bright and intense… I love it. Well, I ordered it, and it came in. Only the shipper sent me the Midnight Blue color instead. 
In case you are wondering… the Midnight Blue is much darker. 
this is embarrassing!
Thing is… I didn’t notice that it was the wrong color until I had already done the preparations for dying. If, like most people, you’ve never dyed your hair an “un-natural color”, you probably don’t know what that entails. Normal hair doesn’t take bright colors well, so you have to treat it first – you have to bleach it. 
So, since my roots were showing, I bleached em out. Then, with the glee that only a 6’9″ half ferret/half man can muster, I bounced into the bathroom to get my dye…
I know. No shocker since I’ve already given you spoilers. The problem is, I already look like that photo… I CAN’T leave it like that… That would be embarrassing. 
I contacted the company. They INSIST that I got what I ordered. They looked up my order and told me they sent the right thing. I asked them how they knew there wasn’t an error. She told me they had just done their yearly inventory and the numbers of these two things were spot on. 
So I was left no choice. I went ahead and dyed my hair midnight blue… I dyed it. UNDER. PROTEST.
I got the stuff applied. rubbed it through, making sure that all of my hair was thoroughly wetted. Then I put on my processing cap. It’s kind of like a clear shower cap designed to keep moisture in, instead of out. It traps heat under the plastic. Heat helps the hair take the color better. 
Why, you ask? I have no idea… it just does.
I let the cap snap into the place and I was struck by one of the strongest cravings I have ever experienced. I just HAD to have chips and salsa. 
Why? Why do I need chips and salsa? Because every time i have ever dyed my hair an un-natural color, I have had chips and salsa…
Okay, okay… I admit it… It’s tradition, but there is a more powerful motivation. I have been conditioned, Pavlovian style, like a dog. I smell the fruity smell of the dye (Jerome Russell’s Punky Colors smells fruity) – and I just HAVE to have chips and salsa.
SO… I run to the kitchen, all ferret bouncy like, throw open the cabinet.
I am greeted by a cupboard decidedly lacking in chips and completely barren of salsa. 
I wept… I fell to the floor, beat my fists on the floor and kicked and screamed…
Then I stood up and looked in the cabinet again… still no salsa. 
I made an executive decision… “WE ARE GOING TO WALMART!” I told the roomie/pet psychotic. 
And off to Walmart we went… Color cap and all. 
It wasn’t much of an adventure – in, grab salsa and chips, get out – but we took pictures. Here they are.
Salsa… are you impressed yet?

Cheap chips… a man of simple tastes, I am!

These are not pants dollars.

My huge self limping out.
There you have it. Photographic proof that I exist and have been to Walmart. I will be surprised if I don’t get on to People of Walmart
Sorry about the low quality of the images, but in my past adventures, I have learned that Walmart hates it when you take a professional camera into one of their stores… I think they are afraid that you might catch photographic evidence that their managers don’t have shadows or reflections (These are classic signs of them being demons or soulless undead.)
Images in this issue were SHAMELESSLY stolen from the following sources:
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