Driving around the other day, humming along to some old Marvin Gaye/ Tammy Tyrell duet while simultaneously trying to keep the onion from flopping out of the onion ring and slapping me on the chin (I'm an excellent driver), it occurred to me that I grew up in the era of duets, I Got You Babe and Don't Go Breakin' My Heart, Endless Love, Summer Nights, You Don't Bring Me Flowers... all those songs where the guy and the girl croon at each other about their big, big love. So that's where I came from, and still, to this day, I can hardly listen to JC and Justin trading off verses without feeling in my heart that they're singing to each other. Because that's what lovers do, you know, that's what the history of popular music teaches us.
In fact, the next time the RPS=eeevil argument comes up, my argument is going to consist solely of throwing my hands up, like See? See? How can you not slash these boys?? That's my question. We're conditioned to it.
Today I meowed at all the kitties at the shelter (no, that is not code), but didn't find the kittie for me. Then I went shopping, but I made the cardinal mistake of going hungry, and now I have jalapeno poppers and pickled asparagus and a little can of lychee nuts with which to get my sesa on, tonight. I think I may have an idea. SHHHH. Don't scare it.
Have much enjoyed Chris saying, "UHHH" on the radio (hee!), and listening to JC sniffle. Man. How come I never win those stupid contests, which are STUPID, anyway?