I usually go to Lush for hair products. I had no idea that this existed, but they have a shampoo rock, and it looks like a bar of soap, and I was tripping out when they told me it was a shampoo, so that's pretty sweet.
The talk show, as a genre, has been in decline for a while. It started with Jerry Springer, when the talk shows suffered a metamorphosis, going from the real and social issues to the hair-raising.
But there's so much kludge, so much terrible stuff, we are at the 1908 Hurley washing machine stage with the Internet. That's where we are. We don't get our hair caught in it, but that's the level of primitiveness of where we are. We're in 1908.
When I do my concerts, you have got to think about everything else; so you have got to think about your gown, your hair, your body, and how you present yourself on stage.
The problem is that television executives have got it into their heads that if one presenter on a show is a blonde-haired, blue-eyed heterosexual boy, the other must be a black Muslim lesbian.
I question the political judgement of those who would have the nerve to paint Christ white with his obvious African nose, lips and wooly hair.
If I hadn't been a woman, I'd be a drag queen for sure. I like all that flair and I'd be dressing up in them high heels and putting on the big hair. I'd be like Ru Paul.
Awake Shake Dreams from your hair My pretty child, my sweet one. Choose the day and choose the sign of your day The days divinity First thing you see.
Step out from behind the words. When you're a writer you can imagine that the words speak for you and are you, but they're not. You are this living breathing bad hair day kind of person.
For years I had my hair parted down the middle in a ponytail, tucked down around the sides... Well, I went and cut the bangs, and I've been wearing them ever since. They say it's my trademark.
I have very curly hair and I straighten it every day - it takes maybe two minutes. I can't imagine anyone having a bigger challenge than I do in the kinkiness that is my crazy 'fro.'
There's no white comic that sells tickets to black people like me. They're going to get their hair done, get a new outfit, and come out to see a white dude.
Nobody ever said that growing old would be easy. Just having to hold the newspaper out in your forties and then hair growing out of unusual parts of your body in your fifties. It's tough on the ego.
It can be hard for the cute girl. I was blond, cute, broke. I was beat up. I was thrown inside lockers. I was burned with cigarettes. My hair was lit on fire.
I have a really beautiful mother. She is close to 60, and to this day doesn't wear a speck of make up or dye her hair, and everyone who meets her is completely dazzled by her. She seriously glows.
I don't understand women at all. Like how a women can pour boiling hot wax onto their upper thigh, then rip the hair out by the root... and still be afraid of a spider.
Mitt Romney - he had a Rock Hudson thing going, shoeblack hair and a well-hung resume, but even for a shameless, position-shifting phony he seemed a trifle insincere.
She wore his flower In her hair Scent of amber Sweetened the air Her dress was white Her feet bare He found heaven Waiting there She is alive In his painful sigh...
People tell me that Senator Edwards got picked for his good looks, his sex appeal, and his great hair. I say to them, 'How do you think I got the job?
But quite honestly, personally, I was much more concerned - I mean, there's not much I can do about my appearance obviously other than spending four hours in hair and makeup.
Why pour shampoo into a rabbit's eyes to see how much shampoo you can put in an adult's eyes before they go blind? I'll put them in my hair, in my eyes before I would give them to anyone else.
