John Travolta eat your heart out. For I am now the new bubble boy. What you see before you is four layers of heavy duty Saran Wrap designed to keep out the bitter cold and keep me from working the street corner in winter. Cause this fat thing is what you want to see in Lycra and fishnets. And if anybody wants to stand and freeze on my deck I will be more than willing to recreate the immortal scene in The Bubble Boy where John Travolta gets his first kiss.
I've long complained about the piano in the Lobby where I work. How loud it is etc. This week hit and all time low when The Carptners tribute trio came to sing. You have to understand I am not a Christmas music snob. I owned the Greatest Brady Bunch Christmas cassette that's how low my standards are. Yet if there are two Christmas songs that drives me absolutely stark raving mad is Christmas shoes ( I wanna buy these shoes for my dying mama. Sappy and it plays on too many emotions plus when the kids choir starts singing? I toss my cookies) and one other song Merry Christmas darling...happy new year too....I'll throw a log on the fire it fuels my desire... and she's singing that with her brother? Um awkward! This morning on the Christmas music station that's the song I woke up with. Then the tribute band came in.
Three times. They sang that song three times. I thought that type of torture was banned by the Geneva Convention? So many questions. Who starts a Carptners Tribute band? Plus then to make the day ever so much better turn on the car radio and on FM 100.3 there she is again. Singing her little heart out.
I now have nightmares.
So hence the Saran Wrap. I've gone into hiding.
Send help and Sprinkles.
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