Day 5: Mondays are For Bitching


You may have noticed that there is a jump from Day 2, to Day 5. Well, Day 3 & Day 4’s prompt was a combo entitled, “Cook a Thing. Do or Do Not..there is no Try.” I didn’t cook a damn thing all weekend, I didn’t even try.  Instead, last night I ate a Taco Bell soft taco while waiting in the drive-thru of Long John Silvers, drunk off the entire bottle of Prosecco I downed at kickball. SUNDAY FUNDAYS! I take really good care of my family, y’all.

Today’s prompt is Monday’s Are For Bitching, well actually it says Mondays are For B@#tching, but I never censor myself.  Fuck that.  HI GRANDMA!  Everyday is for bitching as far as I’m concerned.  But, Tuesdays are my favorite day to complain.  I have made the joke, “TUESDAY, more like BOOsday, AMIRITE?” several times over the course of my life. I am using the term joke very loosely here.    I am trying to channel Garfield and get in the I HATE MONDAYS spirit, but it’s difficult as I am coming off a pretty solid weekend. Perhaps this picture will help.

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“I might as well exercise…I’m in a bad mood anyway.” Garfield speaks from the heart.

It helped a little.  Thus far I have had a pretty good day.  I was only moderately annoyed at work, and I consider that to be a huge success.  But there are always things to bitch about.  THE DAY I STOP BITCHING IS THE DAY I DIE.  There is always something to complain about in the mornings. Like this morning,  I was almost thirty minutes late to work, just because I was dragging ass, and then right when I was on the way out the door I had to poop.  Why does my body continue to betray me will ill timed poops? Talk about Benebutt Arnold.  Traitor. I hadn’t even had coffee yet.

Another thing that REALLY pisses me off is I encounter like 50 million 4-Way stops on my way to work.  PEOPLE DO NOT KNOW HOW TO OPERATE 4-WAY STOPS, MAN.  It’s like their brain seeps out their ears when they pull up to the damn stop sign.  YOU CLEARLY GOT THERE FIRST, GO.  JUST GO, ALREADY.  Oh god, and if they try to wave me ahead when it’s not my turn like I’M THE DUMB ONE, that really makes me go full berserker.  Then there are the people who decide to start going when I am already like half way in the middle of the intersection. WHAT IS THAT, EVEN?  4-Way stops really make me wish I was Gambit so I could whip a playing card out the driver’s side window and make the other person’s car explode.  There should be some sort of mechanism in cars that when the driver improperly operates a 4-Way stop, angry bees swarm out of the vents and assail the driver. 4-WAY STOPS REALLY GET ME GOING! Sorry, if I’m all aggro.  The bridge from Electric Funeral is being played really loud right now, and Black Sabbath always gets me all excited.

So, that is my bitching.   My own body/poop and 4-Way stops is what I chose to bitch about today. HMMMPH.  Now you have a small glimpse of what it’s like to hang out with me.  Let’s be best friends.

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Day 2: Define Yourself In an Uncommon Way


Fine, so it is day 2 of Come Play in May and today’s prompt is Define Yourself In an Uncommon Way.  I’m not even sure what that shit means exactly and I am all jazzed up on sugar, diet pills, and a 100 song playlist I made entitled, Songs That Taste Like Cocaine, so I am just going to post the results to some of those Buzzfeed quizzes everyone is all gaga for. Of course I take those dumb quizzes! Come on, I like wasting time just as much as the next person, but I don’t usually share my results because it is not 2004 and I am not on MySpace.

Let’s see, this one is Which Hogwart’s Professor Are You?  Frankly, I didn’t even care to know the answer to this, so I don’t know why I took this quiz.  Oh wait. I know why, because I’m dumb.

hp

I do love myself! Oh Buzzfeed, you know me better than I know myself. This next quiz is Which New Wave Band Are You? Well shit, last time I took this quiz I got Devo, which was exciting for several different reasons.  This go ’round:

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This result is fine and all, but I would still rather be Devo.  Letty, I know this world is killing you.  Let’s try my hand at Which Britpop Band Are You?  If I’m not Pulp I will jump off a bridge.  Everyone knows how I feel about Jarvis.  He is second only to Lindsey Buckingham in men I adore.

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Well, SEE  Y’ALL IN HELL.  ::Sits down in front of oncoming car::  Just kidding, this is a completely acceptable result.  I love The Stone Roses.  Ian Brown ‘fo life, son.  All right, I am going to take two more quizzes, then I have to do some actual work.  Which quizzes should I choose?  WHICH WILL SHOW MY TRUE INNER BEING?  Let’s go with What Font Are You? WING DINGS OR GTFO.

tnr

 

WELL HELL.  Let’s do one more, Which 90’s Cartoon Series Are You? This should be good.

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Shit sandwiches!  I didn’t even watch that show.  This turned out to be a disappointing affair.  I don’t feel well defined at all.  Well, my cheekbones are well defined, that is something.  I do have some good news, last night I learned how to isolate my butt muscles so I can move one cheek at a time. If that isn’t something to celebrate I don’t know what is.

It’s the weekend, enjoy my cocaine playlist!

 

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Play in May! Day 1: Why I Write


All right, so I haven’t written anything here in a while.  They last thing I gave you were Willow themed valentines, which are amazing, and more than a worthy gift.  Apparently the only way I will write is when prompted, so I have joined up with Shelley at Slightly Off Kilter and Evin at Food Good Laundry Bad, to Play in May.  Just like last year, I will attempt to write every day.  You have all been truly blessed, yet again.

So today’s prompt is, Why I Write.  It’s just like these broads to kick it off with a hard one.  I am not entirely sure why I write.  Clearly, I don’t.  I think I write for the same reason everyone does, because I am a really interesting person and everyone should listen to what I have to say.  I am just a goddamn delight.  I am intelligent, funny, and can ramble on about a variety of topics.  I HAVE OPINIONS DAMMIT.  So, that is one reason I write, because I deserve to.

Another reason I write is to spite.  (I get bonus points for rhyming) There are so many fake, piece of crap, wannabe Gwyneth Paltrows out there, SOMEBODY has to battle them.  Bitch, you ain’t Elizabeth Gilbert, and this ain’t Eat, Pray, Love. You can eat, pray, SUCK MY BUTT, amirite? Sometimes, even I can’t believe how mature and thoughtful I can be.  This is why it is imperative that I write and share my magnificent insights with the ~world~.

I also write because I read.  Or rather, that’s my intention.  I am constantly reading things, then thinking, “Well, I could do that.” But, of course, I can’t and I don’t, because I lack initiative. On the flip side, I like when I read something and am blown away by it.  I’ve recently read several books by author, Rainbow Rowell, and she just knocks it out of the park every single time.  I don’t know how to do that.  I don’t even know how to start.  Maybe someday, if I make even the slightest effort, I could figure it out.  For now I will just eat Lean Pockets and watch tattoo reality competitions because that’s what makes me momentarily happy.

For the month of May, I will write everyday.  At the end of the month,  I will feel proud and inspired, and maybe (probably not) I will do something with that temporary motivation.  In any case let’s Play in May, bitches.   Here is a Police video your viewing pleasure!

Axis of Ineptitude
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Happy Valentine’s Day Dummies!


I am a huge dorko, so I made these Willow themed Valentine’s for you all!  I love Willow.  I will forever have a huge gigantic crush on Madmartigan, and have vowed to name my next pet after him.  Enjoy nerds!

willow, valentine, warwick davis

 

brownies, willow, valentines

 

sorsha valentine

 

willow, valentines, madmartigan, val kilmer

 

I love Willow, and I love you!

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Grabbing 2014 by the Balls


2013 was mad chill.  In that it was pretty uneventful, I THINK.  I don’t know, I can’t recall any major events.  Which I think is a good thing, that means everything was easy cheesy.  No drama, trauma, or baby mommas. No bad, sad, or angry lads. (I received a rhyming dictionary for Christmas.)  2013 gave me exactly what I could have wanted, friends, fun, and family.  Isn’t that what everyone wants?  Sure, there were peppers of excitement throughout the year, but nothing worth re-mentioning.  Let’s look forward now, it is a new year tomorrow, 2014! Today is the first day of the rest of your strife!

Let’s see, 2014.  All right. Already it doesn’t resonate with me as much as 2013.  It’s the 13 that I am going to miss, really.  I like prime numbers.  We will leave it dorkily at that.  At least we can all take comfort that when you break down 14, 1+4=5.  It’s the Law of Fives!

photo courtesy of http://www.poee.org. Hail Eris!

So, perhaps 2014 will be an exciting year after all.  I am going to turbo bomb the shit out of 2014.  I am not sure exactly what that means, but it sounds vaguely kick ass.  We are always so deludedly hopeful at the beginning of a new year.  We make goals!  If you are an NFL kicker, as many of my readers are, and in the playoffs, you make field goals!  But y’all, goals are stupid.  Don’t make goals, make PLANS.  Because then later in the year, when people ask you if you’ve followed through with whatever lame thing you’ve set for yourself, you can yell, “I’M PLANNING ON IT.”  Plan can be used as a verb, goal can not.

Regardless of that previous paragraph,  I will share my plans and inspiration for this year.  I plan on writing more.  I know, I say that shit all the time, but this time maybe I will have some goddamn follow through.  Kolleen and I are going to revive Thirtysometeen! We will write words about dumb things!  I plan on actually performing with one or all of the many bands that have loosely created.  It has been well over a year since I’ve sang with a band for an audience, and that is a true travesty. A talent such as mine should not be hidden from the world.  I plan on maintaining my trim figure, because I worked hard last year, and the compliments, in addition to fitting into old clothes, are awesome. Plus, exercising is oddly satisfying. Who would have thought?  I have lots of other plans of course. They include painting, getting better at playing the drums, continuing to help Truman become the coolest kid ever, and all sorts of other mess. There is no need to list them all here.  I have a whole year to get shit done!

Now I will share with you three things that will serve as inspiration to me throughout the new year.  2014 YOU’RE ABOUT TO GET BEAT LIKE A MAN BOXING A KANGAROO!

Bob Seger recording “Little Drummer Boy” is hands down the most intense thing that I have ever watched. Skip to :43 for the goods.  May I tackle everything with such fire and aplomb!

VASQUEZ!  One time at kickball, before the game, there was a softball team practicing on the field.  There was a woman in charge, and she looked just like me, except more commanding and with bigger muscles.  She was awesome.  She was Prison Letty.  Vasquez is Space Prison Letty.

Dolph Lundgren on a water ski.  ‘Nuff said.

With that, I wish you all a very happy and prosperous new year!  May your life be as chill as mine.

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Terrible Things are Happening in the World, So I’m Going to Complain About a Skirt.


I’m back!  I just needed to take a brief hiatus so I could collect my thoughts, reevaluate my life, and do some real soul searching. PFFFFFFFFT   Yeah right, I squandered these last few months watching  Duran Duran videos all by myself.  That is only a slight exaggeration. While I did spend an inordinate amount of time ogling Duran Duran, a lots of things happened these past few months.

Let’s see!  I got a tattoo.  It is a seagull loteria card, and it’s rad, and it didn’t hurt, and I still like to stare at it and rub it lovingly.  My parents do not like it, but they have begrudgingly accepted it.  I mean they have to, as I am a 31 year old woman (Oh yeah!  I forgot!  I had a Soft Rock birthday since my last post.  I am year older now!  Listen to this playlist! Seriously listen to it, it is so good.)

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~TRASH BIRD FOR LIFE~

Anyway, I am a 31 year old woman and I can tattoo whatever creatures on my body that I want, AND NO ONE CAN STOP ME.  The only one of my family members that likes my seagull is my oldest sister Lisa.  My other sister Erica laments that it is too large and that when I wear formal gowns it will look declasse.  This is a pretty valid concern though, because I am constantly going to balls and galas, et al. Not a weekend goes by where I am not at the Governor’s Mansion or a high school dance.  My favorite reaction was from my mother, who said, “People always asked me if I ever thought  you’d get a tattoo, and I always said no.  You’ve made me a liar.”  HAAAAAAA! SO DRAMATIC.

Y’all, Truman turned two!  WHAT?!?  We celebrated by doing a whole shit ton of nothing, but he had a great day anyway.   Almost everyday is a great day when you’re two years old.  He is growing and developing!  He is talking more every day and has started Spanish lessons.  His teacher said he is very attentive and makes attempts to say the words.  I am proud of that little bugger!

Just look at that little scamp.

Just look at this little scamp.

We didn’t really do anything for Truman’s birthday because we went on a family vacation a couple days later.  Or, rather, we intended too.  First we had to deal with The Great Evans Passport Debacle of 2013.  I don’t really feel like talking about it, because I am still pissed about it, but I will give you the gist.  We were all packed and ready to leave, when the night before we couldn’t find our passports.  The only passport we could find was Truman’s.  We turned our filthy house upside to find those bastards.  To this goddamned day I do not know where our original passports are.   It was quite the ordeal.  I would like to thank my parents, Expedia, and the Houston Passport Agency for getting us to Mexico.  ::round of angry yet enthusiastic applause::

Mexico was awesome.  Duh.  We went to an all-inclusive resort.  Nothing too exciting, but excellent all the same.  It was mad chill.  I went zip-lining, snorkeling, and ate at buffets a lot.  I got sick twice! I also managed to skin both of my elbows on a water slide.  So you know, memories that will last a life time.  Really though, I had a lovely time with my family and Truman loved every minute of it.

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But let’s get to the real reason I came here–to complain about something really trifling.  I am sorry, just HAVE to bitch about this.  Right then, so let the bitching commence!  Okay, so I had based my entire fall/winter look on this one black skirt, and had already bought shirts to complement it and everything. I even got my hair cut based around this fucking skirt.  I was planning for a 60’s French girly tomboy look, like my all time fashion icon, Jean Seberg.  It gave me a super valid excuse to buy even more stripey Bretonesque shirts.  It was going to be a welcome change from my scruffy summer look of jorts and t-shirts.

Who wouldn’t want to emulate her?

Anyway, so I go to Target yesterday to buy said skirt, and I CAN’T FIND IT ANYWHERE.  It’s like it NEVER EXISTED.  But, I know that it wasn’t a figmentof my imagination because I had previously purchased the same skirt in grey.  Why did I buy it in grey, instead of the more useful black?  I don’t know, because I am dumb.

This skirt is described as short and flippy, and that is just what I had in mind.  I imagined myself in my little black flippy skirt and stripey shirt, skipping down the sidewalk, carrying a picnic basket, and wearing a giant bow on my head.  I was to be the cutest bitch since Marlo Thomas in That Girl. BUT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooO, Target screwed me over! I still managed to spend almost $100 dollars yesterday, because in a fit of madness I purchased, this, and some other random shit.

I know know, it is seriously the lamest thing to be mad about ever.  Especially since it is just a basic black skater skirt that you can get almost anywhere. They are very popular this season.  Since I started writing this, I have already found several adequate replacements.  I even found a stripey one, and a flirty lil’ denim one. It took me literally five minutes to find all of these skirts.  I spent more time moping about the stupid thing than I did googling it.  IN CLOSING, I am going to be so cute this fall y’all!  Everything is fine and wonderful!  The world is great!  I will try to start writing more!  Here is an entire episode of Charmed Lives, a Who’s the Boss spin-off featuring Fran Drescher.  Enjoy!

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Update/An Open Letter


theillumiletty:

Kolleen and I wrote this yesterday. Well, Kolleen wrote most of it, as I have seemingly lost my ability to compose my thoughts into words. If you didn’t read it yesterday, enjoy it today. If you did read it yesterday, read it again.

Originally posted on Thirty-SomeTeen:

Hey everyone! We’ve been on summer vacation and the thought of looking at a computer makes us sick! But now fall is upon us, so it looks like reviews will be coming your way. Maybe a contest or two as well!

But this post is not to get your hopes up. This post is a call- out.

Earlier today, one of Kolleen’s friends posted this article, which is in itself an open letter to young girls everywhere that insist on taking scandalous selfies and plastering them on the internet. While we do acknowledge that the youth of today is becoming increasingly sexualized, what comes off as a caring and concerned voice of reason is really, upon further examination, slut- shamey and misogynist. And we don’t like that.

So here is OUR open letter to “Mrs. Hall”, who seems to really love to contradict herself by posting pictures of her…

View original 677 more words

I’m Still Here Y’all!


I’ve just been suffering from HORRIFIC writer’s block. YES, HORRIFIC! Plus, I have been really busy watching television.   Here is something to keep you occupied while I gather my thoughts.

BOWIE.

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LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT, BITCHES.


I did it!  I made it through The Blog Every Day in May challenge.  This month just FLEW by.  I would like to thank Jenni for encouraging me to write, and everyone who read my amazing BUT shitty writing.  You are the best!  Well, I am the best, but you are a close second.  I am patting myself on the back so hard I might as well be in Opus Dei.  Today’s prompt is “A Vivid Memory”. I have many vivid memories, Jenna Jameson, before she looked like Skeletor, did a lot of her best work for Vivid.  YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE?  Since it is the very last day of the challenge, I feel like celebrating. So, I will regale you of the tale of how Chad and I met.

I met Chad when I was 18 years old.  I was young, skinny, and pretty smashable. I was attending the local community college and really coming into my own, both personality and fashion wise.  That is if wearing an Iggy Pop shirt, plaid blazer, and red cowboy boots all the time counts as fashionable.  (It does.)  I was taking a Television Production class and I really liked it!  Specifically because I had a huge crush on my TA, Jeremy.  He was nice and funny, and had multiple piercings in his ears. I had just gotten out of a relationship ( if you could call it that) with a guy who literally moved away without telling me.  So Jeremy was a breath of fresh air, except he had a girlfriend.  That didn’t keep me from still crushing on him of course, and despite my unrequited affections, we became friends.

jeremyletty

Two friends, just palling around in a tree, like normal people do.

Jeremy was always telling me that I needed to meet his best friend Chad, who lived in California, and I was always like “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Oh hey, are you still with you girlfriend?”.  The answer was always yes, and for the brief period it wasn’t yes, he still wasn’t interested.  Soon enough, Spring Break rolled around, which I looked at as an opportunity to spend more time with Jeremy.  I was thrilled when he asked for my number and asked  if I wanted to hang out that evening.

I sat at home waiting by phone expectantly, like I was fucking Vikki Carr or some shit, and when the phone finally rang and his name was on the caller ID, I thought I was JUST GOING TO DIE.   I answered the phone in the way that only an infatuated teen girl could do, with a breathless, yet practiced, but restrained, “~Hello~.”  Despite what the caller ID said, Jeremy was not on the other end.  The person on the other end had a stutter, and managed after some time, to spit out, “D-d-d-ddo you want-t-t to h-h-hang out wit-t-t-h us t-t-tttonight?”  I said yes straight away because I was eager to hang out with my crush.  It would take more than a stutterer to keep me away from my beloved. No offense to stutterers of course.

I was ecstatic, eeeeeeeee hangouts!  I ran around my parent’s house like a chicken with its head cut off.  What should I wear? What did I wear?  That I don’t remember, but I remember being so excited that I thought my heart was going to pump right out of my fucking chest.  Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, the doorbell rang.  I swung open the door expecting to see Jeremy, and he wasn’t there.  It was someone else.  He was tall, had blond hair, was wearing a fake sheepskin jacket even though it wasn’t very cold, and was holding a raspberry Tootsie Roll Pop.  He handed me the Tootsie Roll Pop, and read me this poem:

poem

It was Chad, visiting from LA, and it was love at first sight.  It turns out that on the way to my house, Jeremy and Chad had decided that Chad and I were going on a blind date, without telling me.  Before Chad even met me, he wrote me a poem. He rhymed my name with jetty, and I loved it. I was immediately charmed.  It was like,  “Jeremy, who?”  I don’t remember where we went that evening, on our first “date”, other than we went to the two-story Whataburger in downtown Corpus.  He made a big show of  buying me white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookie and purposely said cheesy lines like, “No cookie could ever be as sweet as you.”  When the evening ended, I wanted Chad to kiss me, but he didn’t.

The next evening he pulled up to my house on his dad’s motorcycle wanting to take me on a ride. My grandma wouldn’t let me go! (What!?!) So we just sat in my parents’ living room and listened to records.  Our first dance ever was to Roy Orbison’s version of “Blue Bayou”.  I remember he was wearing a purple button up shirt that was a little too big for him and I didn’t like it.  I asked  why he didn’t kiss me the first date, and he said that he wanted to be cool and just walk away like Maverick in Top Gun.  Later that evening, I got my kiss.  But only one, he had to be cool.

handsome chad

We went out the next night.  We saw the Toadies play, then we made out in his old VW Bug that used to be pink but  he had spray painted orange.  I showed him my boobs, and then we were boyfriend and girlfriend.  We were inseparable  for the duration of his trip.  I met his parents and he met mine. When he flew back to California, it was one of the saddest days of my life.  We talked on the phone every day. He wrote me fanciful letters, filled with poems and drawings.  I still have them all.  The distance was quite hard.  Blessedly, my parents could tell I had it BAD, and they actually let me fly out to California to visit him a couple times, and he made frequent trips to Texas that started lasting longer and longer in their duration.

awww

I used to wear blazers a lot.

One day he asked me to marry him, and I did.  This October it will be ten years.  He may not look like a 70’s rock star anymore, but he is still very handsome, and I love him.  He is an excellent father, and can grow a magnificent beard.  We are still friends with Jeremy, and he ended up marrying the lovely Raquel, the girlfriend I always pestered him about. They are happy and have three lovely kids.  He played a medley of “Wild Thing” and “Crazy Train” at our wedding. I do not have a crush on him anymore.

jeremy chad

Jeremy and Chad by the bathroom George Michael got caught in. (JK)

I might be a bit biased, but I think that Chad and I have one of the best “how we met” stories ever, and it makes me happy to reminisce.  Legitimate love at first sight, HELLO!  I hope everyone appreciated this rare display of emotion/affection from me.  Lick it up, because it doesn’t happen often.  I thank you for sticking with me throughout this challenge.  I am pretty proud that I finished, and finished strong, LIKE A BOSS. Like a fucking boss.

lettychad1

A current picture. <3



P.S. OH SNIP SNAP! This is my 100th post!  I deserve a slice of pizza.

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I May Be Dumb, But I Have Excellent Taste in Music


All right suckers, three more posts!  Tomorrow is the very last one, so I will let it stand alone.  It is much more dramatic that way.

Day 28, Tuesday: Only pictures

I can’t follow instructions, so here are some photos of me being dumb!

This was taken in July.

Sisterhood of the Traveling Slut Dress

YUS!

Day 29, Wednesday: Five songs or pieces of music that speak to you or bring back memories. Use Grooveshark or YouTube to include them in the post

I do this all the time anyway in lieu of writing an actual post.  Man, I looked at some of the other posts for this challenge, and some people have horrific taste in music.  I know it is all subjective, but I am right, and you are wrong.  I am just going to post some songs I’ve been digging lately.  THEY ~SPEAK~ TO ME.

Age of Consent-New Order.  Man, this song seems like it was created just for MLC to cover it.  It is so fucking good.  Damn.

Give Me Some Kind of Sign- Brenton Wood.  Everything about this so is great.  The lead vocals, the harmony, the organ solo.  All music should be this smooth.

Fist City- Loretta Lynn.  You better move your feet if you don’t want to eat a meal that’s called Fist City. I love her.

Tusk-Fleetwood Mac.  I’ve been listening to this song on repeat for the past few weeks now.  It is amazing and unique.  I am desperately in love with Lindsey Buckingham, so much so that Stevie will never be higher than my fourth favorite member of Fleetwood Mac because I am so jealous of her.  Never mind that he was a total dick, cocaine is a hell of a drug.

Blurred Lines- Robin Thicke featuring T.I., Pharrell.  I included this just to prove that I actually listen to songs from this decade.  This song is hot shit.  It replaced “Get Lucky” as my new summer jam.  I don’t even care if it is incredibly sexist.  It is fun as hell. If you like boobies, I highly recommend you check out the unrated version of the video.

It is pretty impressive that I managed to post 5 songs without even one David Bowie video.  See, I am growing as a person.

BONUS:  This is my favorite song to clean the house to.  I guess don’t listen to it at work or in front of people who don’t like the word fuck. ASAP Rocky is so dapper!

Day 30, Thursday: React to this term: Letting Go

I guess this prompt is supposed to serve as therapy or something.  I will resist the urge to make this about bowel movements and try to BE LEGIT.  Looking at all of those pictures I just posted makes me realize that I need to “let go” of my former life.  I am a mother now, and I guess it’s time to grow up.  I can’t go to ALL of the parties my friends have, I can’t have improptu dance parties after the bars close, and I can’t get AS drunk in the middle of the day as I used to.  It’s hard, because it seems like a lot of  my friends are stuck in this state of permanent adolescence, and I want to go to Never Never Land with them. BUT NOOOOOO,  I HAVE OBLIGATIONS NOW.  C’est La Vie!  Growing up isn’t so bad, I will just take it little by little. I’m still going to have fun, and now a whole different kind of fun with my son.  But I’m telling you now, if I ever get to urge to do whippits and listen to Steely Dan, goddamit  I’m going to do it, and no one can stop me.



P.S. Y’all don’t know how difficult it was to talk about growing up while wearing a little boy’s shirt that I purchased at the Dollar General.

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