As I plan on possibly being mildly to moderately hung over tomorrow morning (I'm meeting/meeting up with fellow bloggers Flenker and h tonight- let's see what happens when bloggers collide!) and I'll probably be too drunk the rest of the day to type...
Make me feel better about turning 37 tomorrow than I do right now.
Damn, when did I get so old and who let all these hoodlums and whippersnappers in?
I'm going to the icebox for a libation and possibly a nice supper.
*click the pic to see my awesome pedicure.
Anyone for a game of shuffleboard later? How about a rousing round of Canasta? Could someone stop by Walgreens and get me a pair of those support hose I like so much? Does this look like a goiter to you? Don't you have something mushy to eat? Why are my boobs touching my bellybutton? Do you have any bunion pads? No? How about hemorrhoid cream? Is my Hoveround out of the shop yet? Where's that mailman? Is Matlock on? Do you have any of those hard candies I like so much? Forty three dollars? For a pair of shoes? Have you seen my teeth? Does this cat sweatshirt match these stretchy pants? How about the metallic tennies? Do those work with my outfit? Why does my colon hurt? Want to go out and catch the early bird $4.95 salisbury steak special down at the Sizzler? Is my toupee' on straight? I seem to have misplaced my vagina- have you seen it?
Next thing you know, I'll be 38. Then, of course- 39 is right around the corner. And then...
Then I'll be 29 again.
I love how that works. My birthdays, my rules.