Yesterday, I spent the morning crawling around in a ball pit with my nephew and watching trains.
Then I got a fetching new hair-do.
And when I was preparing to get my eyebrows done I leaned back in the chair the lady who has done my hair and ‘brows for a long-ass time asked “are we just waxing your eyebrows today?”
I said yes.
And she continued looking around in her drawer for something and said again, “Just ... (pause) (pause) (pause) … the eyebrows?”
And then I sat up and I was all, “look, Rhonda. Is there something you’re trying to tell me?” *
But I felt better than I had in 2 weeks.
So, in celebration I listened to the loud rock and roll music and pumped my body full of the toxins.
Sierra Nevada Pale Ale and Marlboro’s go down real swell after a sick spell.
And now I hurt like a train wreck.
Congratulations, ann-frank. Your Mensa limo's waiting.
It’s all gassed up and the stereo’s cranking.
*There wasn't but sheesh, people should really be careful with their dramatic pauses.