Annnnddd, this one time, at band camp, I got a big lip

And by "band camp", I mean work.  And by "big lip", I mean a mosquito bite that turned awry.  Oy vay!  Anyhow, I am back to my thin little lips, no more Angelina Jolie. 

I have reaffirmed myself that I don't particularly like kids.  Especially when they come in large doses.  We're talking at least 25 little girls and a handful of little boys, all piled up on the same stage that I am on.  KIDS!  What's the matter with KIDS these days?  Well, they're spoiled and they don't understand what it means to be quiet.  GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.  Is that a grey hair on my head?GAHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Anyhow, I think I'll go home tonight and enjoy the company of my own babies.  No not children silly.  My furry babies.  They don't sass, talk back, require a college education, or a new car, or this or that, or things in between.  But, before I go home, I have to endure a day of *sigh*...SENIORS. 

On a happier note: I found a CD that I thought was missing.  It's a Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir CD.  They are AMAZING.  What a positive way to start off my work day.   Except, that I didn't listen to it all the way thru.  I popped in a CD from the musical "Nunsense" instead. 

You know that moment, when you're driving down the road (or when you bite into a York Peppermint Patty), and something happens that makes you laugh out loud.  (LOL for those who prefer shorthand).  I had that happen today.  I've been suffering writer's block for a few days and had my eyes and ears ready for any opportunity to write about something today.  Well...it happened.  And the story goes something like this...

Once upon a time, in a land far, far, away, in a city full of traffic, a young lady was dutifully riding her horse into work, driving her car into work.  The sweet sounds of children singing, a gospel choir singing, a group of nuns singing, could be heard playing in the car.  While glancing at the beautiful oak trees that adorned the dirt road, freshly paved road, the not so freshly paved road, I see a young lady jogging.  Traffic stopped so as to give me a chance to notice...she had no bra on, breasts swinging around.  AND, she must be breastfeeding, because these babies were lactacting.  ANNNNNNNNDDDDD, to add insult to herself, she stopped as if to tie her shoe.  But no, she stopped to just pull her underwear out of her crack.  Adjusted the boobies, and kept running.  Now, that doesn't seem like much.  You're right.  I have seen worse.  But, given the fact that I am dried up on material to write about, I was just excited that I could scrounge up enough words to write about this.

Okay.  I should just give up.  There's no hope in salvaging this blog entry.  Stay tuned next time when we'll hear the crusty, busty old, young, jogger say "Hey big man let me hold a dollar!"  *so I totally stole that last line*