L.A. Hair Returns to WE TV

Honey, L.A. Hair returned for Season 4, and while I’ve been familiar with the series this was my first time actually watching it. I must admit, EVERYONE on that show brings a particular brand of petty. Some more than others.

Jonathan. Honey. Baby. You knew you could have stopped your ass at that desk and delivered that manila folder the proper way. I don’t give a damn who you are and what you’ve done, it’s my house so honey, it’s my rules. When I’m in your house, I’ll follow suit. If I just got my carpet cleaned and I ask you to take your shoes off at the door, don’t tell me no because it’s gonna get dirty, take your shoes off and don’t move too much if you know those feet smell like.. feet!

I haven’t watched the last three seasons, so I’m not sure exactly what led up to it. However, even if you show up at the call center, a late is a late is a late. Eventually, you rack up enough of them, and your ass is hitting the grass. Bound to happen shawty!

I’m a Georgia peach, so you know I’m #TeamGocha on this one. Baby, for Terry being the project manager he certainly was pretty childish that Gocha stepped in the room. I would have just keep bumping that press and curl and showed Atlanta how things go in LA. Girl, you never let them see you sweat Terry, and Gocha’s mere presence had you sweating like a hooker in Church.

Lisa had a bit of an attitude, but with good reason. You talk about me and act like I’m not gonna check you? #Byegirlflygirl! Now, do I think Lisa looks like a man? Yes. Do I think that’s an insult? No. Honey, trans is the new black, and the transgender community is as beautiful as ever before. Do I think Lisa was going to come across the table on Angela. Yes. Do I think Angela is really what Lisa wants (you know as a in a fight..), no gawd, honey!


Listen honey, throwing shade is one thing Anthony, but when the shade is paid dust, and virtually undetected.. you lose

Honey, it’s something about this one I don’t trust. You know they say family does you the dirtiest. I’m keeping my eye on ol’ Traci Chapman.

Girl, no ma’am.

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