The rage has lifted. It is completely last season's Prada. [New catch-phrase, BT Dubs. You're welcome. Be sure to spread it like the syph.]
It's quite miraculous, really. I don't know what happened, but I don't feel like gouging everyone's eyes out with my clickable Sharpie anymore.
It could have been the phone call with Marcus earlier today. It's nice to hear someone excited about your brother's return. And to have them willing to listen to you complain about the heinous bitch your siblings call step-mother. And to know that this person would totally go to a Britney Spears concert with you, no questions asked. And to know that when a girl walks by wearing yellow crocs, double cuffed jeans, VPL, blue glitter eyeshadow, a scrunchie, or anything with the word "bootylicious" on it, you don't need to explain anything; they know.
Though the rage is gone, I still want to go home.
Sounds Beyond the Daily Noise
11 years ago
2 comments:
Although you will not catch me dead at a Britney Spears concert, I am really happy that your brother is coming home. Shame on me if I did not say that before now.
And I'm glad to hear that you're feeling better.
Merry Christmas, friend. We'll be home soon.
You know I would not be caught dead NOT at a Britney Spears concert. (That didn't really make sense, but I think you understand.) And...I would know. My gag reflex was triggered by that vision of that girl. Blergh.
And I'm glad your brother is coming home AND that you're going to be home! Home sweet Texas.
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