Hell is for...

I know Kacey,  I know.
We got a Charlie last night. In celebration, I went to bed by 10 PM.

I am old. 

Had a weird nightmare for my troubles. Peeling faces, hallways sucking TGB into a vortex, crappy Super Bowl, and high school cheerleader pyramids collapsing into blood and bones. It was disturbing. I woke up and read Hitchhiker's Guide for an hour. 

I never thought Pat Benatar was attractive. I still think she is ridiculously talented and an absolute badass - that voice, holy shit. But I once had a friend get offended because I said she reminded me of Mary Lou Retton (the smile) and she was indignant because, apparently, everyone had always told her she looked like Pat Benatar. Somehow, the latter was a compliment to her. 

I guess the smile that lit up America is less preferred to the 837 teeth facing 968 different directions. 

Anyway, I am learning to play and sing a Pat Benatar song. I will sing it badly. On a boat full of drunk people in March. They'll be too drunk to know I suck. 

I apologize to everyone getting a thank you gift in the coming days for the suckitude of the gift. 

Titty sprinkles! 


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