So here's the place
I rant and I rave in private spaces in the universe and I don't release the details of the day. I don't consider the details of the day of the people of the places. And I wonder why? To protect the innocent? Nah, because the guilty will expose themselves and they don't need my help for that and there are no innocent.
So after strolling through the blogger universe I come across some fascinatingly funny clever witty people and they are MY people and in order to prove it to myself I find that I must demonstrate my vast ability to bullshit with finesse.
We will see how it goes. And it might not go well. Cuz I go. And then she goes. And we go like and then we were all, and it was like all and it was like, there I go again. Ok, maybe you have to be Sheryl Crow or Nancy DeFina to know what I'm talking about.
Anyway-the thing is now for the life of me I have nothing else to say. Should I comment on the crazy ass song playing from my own private music library? Secret fan of: Billy Joel and Barry Manilow. Guess who's playing now? Think Bosom Buddies Theme Song. And now, you're thinking, how old is this chick anyway? Old. Ancient. Because I have a postcard framed like a family picture of Tom Hanks in a straight jacket and I knew him when he was a cross-dressing freak on Tuesdays, I believe it was Tuesday nights. Not the Academy Award winning ACTOR with a capital everything, but one part Kip and one part... what the hell was her name? Going to have to think about that one for a minute.
Anyway - I have work to do in the morning. And in the afternoon. And maybe I'll drive down to Orange County and hand deliver the Angelfire (old school) & chocolate lip liner (hopefully it works) and pick up a showcase and drop off an Emerald Star order (we can hope & pray). Yea, that sounds like a plan. So I should go to sleep now and not worry about strange phone calls that sound weird and I sound even weirder taking them. Oh -- that's for another blog. My bad.
So after strolling through the blogger universe I come across some fascinatingly funny clever witty people and they are MY people and in order to prove it to myself I find that I must demonstrate my vast ability to bullshit with finesse.
We will see how it goes. And it might not go well. Cuz I go. And then she goes. And we go like and then we were all, and it was like all and it was like, there I go again. Ok, maybe you have to be Sheryl Crow or Nancy DeFina to know what I'm talking about.
Anyway-the thing is now for the life of me I have nothing else to say. Should I comment on the crazy ass song playing from my own private music library? Secret fan of: Billy Joel and Barry Manilow. Guess who's playing now? Think Bosom Buddies Theme Song. And now, you're thinking, how old is this chick anyway? Old. Ancient. Because I have a postcard framed like a family picture of Tom Hanks in a straight jacket and I knew him when he was a cross-dressing freak on Tuesdays, I believe it was Tuesday nights. Not the Academy Award winning ACTOR with a capital everything, but one part Kip and one part... what the hell was her name? Going to have to think about that one for a minute.
Anyway - I have work to do in the morning. And in the afternoon. And maybe I'll drive down to Orange County and hand deliver the Angelfire (old school) & chocolate lip liner (hopefully it works) and pick up a showcase and drop off an Emerald Star order (we can hope & pray). Yea, that sounds like a plan. So I should go to sleep now and not worry about strange phone calls that sound weird and I sound even weirder taking them. Oh -- that's for another blog. My bad.
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