Friday night, I reveled as my Boston-loving hubby was bashed and heckled by Yankees fans. Then, after the game as we were driving home, we watched as one of America's finest puked out the window down the side of his Air Force buddy's hatchback. The kid was in full dress regalia. He then exited the car in a McDonald's parking lot, reached for a tree to stabilize himself, and nearly fell over when he missed the branch.
Where was my cameraphone?
Today, we had to go to the place I hate the most. The mall. What a pit of gluttonous despair. We stayed long enough to laugh at a teenage girl who had brown hair with the top layers dyed a shocking platinum white. Who knew skunk was in this year? If I spent more time in malls, perhaps I'd know this.
And, to cap it off, we just left the Arizona Sting game where our boys got skunked. Just like the girl with the platinum hair, it was disgusting to behold.
However, I finally bought me some Sufjan Stevens and I've been rocking out Roxy style to "Chicago" which I must say is a fine piece of music genius. Actually, my stellar day has been made possible by awesome music everywhere we went. When we stopped for lunch, Gordon Lightfoot's "Sundown" was on. I sang "Mercedes Benz" on my way out of the DMV. And, while I peed in the ladies room at the game tonight, I ruled my stall by singing and toilet-swaying to the Grateful Dead. I stayed for the whole song, and then had to stay even longer because "Pink Houses" came on.
I rocked the whole bathroom.
Oh yeah.
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