Yup. It's that time again! This week, I'm starting things off with a reader submission. Here it is:
Who's this little dude (besides Mr. Adorable, of course)? Hint: he's a part-time commenter. First person to guess wins, um, nothing. Yay!
Reminder: send in your pics if you want to be included in the party. That was for you, JHC.
Speaking of cringesday, last night, I decided to take a bath. Which, when you're a single chick like me with no life, is kind of a big deal. I lit some candles, poured some Shiraz, and fired up the ol' iPod. Then I sang my little heart out because, hand to God, my tub is better than any studio out there. I sound like a rock star. Or so I thought. My bathtub performance repertoire is strictly Mariah Carey's first album. You love it too. Don't even pretend. Anyway, after sufficient prunage, I get out to discover that my whole house is completely silent, as in, my parents had been listening to my concert. I ran to my room, a la 7th grade. Totally sweet and awesome. This only caused me to drown my embarrassment in the rest of the bottle. Which caused me to be a little tipsy, alone, on a Tuesday night. Which caused some rather silly conversations and r*tarded text messages. Apologies all around. I love me! Mostly because I have to.
Oh! I almost forgot the best part! When I finally went to bed, I cried while watching the Sex and the City finale rerun on channel 16, whatever that is. Feel free to hate on me. I would.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
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7 comments:
I could never compete with that pompadour. Also, it's no longer 4am and I don't think I want to be outed anymore.
I like it when you talk about baths. RAWRRR!!!!!!
amazing
hmm, whoever it is.. Go Eam Interna!!!!
Whoever that is, he totally stole my seventh grade haircut.
Fine, I had it in eighth grade too.
And also - if you can't sing your brains out while drunk in the bathtub, then by God, the terrorists have already won.
i was going through my TV-News-Anchor-hairstyle period back then.
Ha.
And actually, that was my favorite shirt, although I don't remember why [now].
Blythe - where the hell are you? I'm churning out comic gold on the Ride and you are nowhere to be found! Get it together already!
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