I wrote almost an entire post and it evaporated into the ethers so here is the gist because it’s Friday and I have to nap before LOUD CHILD HOME ALL WEEKEND begins.
Sitting here listening to this.
I woke up like this. You could too. Starbucks in my cup, pineapple coconut fritter from Sesame Donuts in my bellbell.
Went to Fred Meyer not only wearing leggings with a shirt that doesn’t cover my butt(but is awesome and beloved by every child that ever saw it), they are also the clothes I slept in. And they have a hole. I am a person of Walmart, sans Walmart.
Now listening to this. Because not only am I a person of Walmart, I am as old as dirt. Dirt that was excavated from a 45 year old hole. Not the one in my leggings.
DOG. Hole not visible therefore does not exist. That’s what she said.
Now this because I wanna be a Tenenbaum when I grow up.
I’m Batmom(verified). Sometimes even Batmom needs a bang trim.
And this because it melds my dreams of Tenenbaumitis and 70’s easy listening but it has a good beat and you can dance to it. And you really should. It’s Friday, bitches and it’s 5 o’clock somewhere.
And this one because it played automatically after Julio and freaking CHEVY CHASE. I’m feeling Fletch in my not so distant future. Also, Paul Simon is a motherfucking baller.
If I’ve made one person chairdance today was totally worth it. If I’ve made anyone play a fake instrument my life was totally worth it. Happy, happy you fabulous weirdos.