Meet Carissa www.instagram.com/carisssssa
She is in Oban HelpXing at the Backpackers again for the FOURTH time – yes, that is how much of an excellent boss I am. Never mind the fact that this technically means she has already left three times… she just can’t stay away.
But Carissa is more than an outstanding unpaid worker, she is also a very dear friend. She is a creative soul, willing to indulge me, schmokin’ hawt and able to throw excellent poses. Bingo.
As regular readers will know, I’ve gone a bit mad on the online wig procurement lately, and it seems silly not to put this transvestite treasure trove to good use. I’ve always loved wigs, in fact, for my 21st birthday, BFF Sophie and I had a party together to celebrate, and the theme was… WIGS.
If memory serves, this was when I first dabbled in the mullet lifestyle. I bought a big, bad, white-blonde Tina Turner/David Bowie-in-the-Labyrinth mullet and bloody loved it. I wonder where that wig is now. Probably in storage at Mum and Dad’s, bugger, I shouldn’t mention that because now they’re going to read this and bring up how much my crap is crapping up their garage.
But anyway. Carissa came over the other night and the green paint was still out from my date with a bunch of daffodils, so I was like, can I paint you green and draw a bunch of question marks between your boobs?
Like I said, she is a very good sport.
Carissa is a female Riddler. She is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma; but perhaps there is a key.
And then Chloe came home and wasn’t at all surprised because mad shit like this goes on all the time when you live with me.