I don't think I can top my last post.
I'll just have to wait for something weird or funny to happen to me. When it does, I'll let you know!
Peapod is coming any minute so maybe I'll have a good story about the delivery man showing me his privates or grabbing one of my boobs.
I'll just have to wait for something weird or funny to happen to me. When it does, I'll let you know!
Peapod is coming any minute so maybe I'll have a good story about the delivery man showing me his privates or grabbing one of my boobs.
One can only hope.
In the meantime, let's play a game.
It's called..."You know you're old when.."
I'll start.
You know you're old when you are actually somewhat flattered that some freak in the Foodtown produce section flirted with you.
You know you're old when one of your thrills in life is peeking out the window at the antics of your wild divorced next door neighbor and her new
This Mrs. Kravitz
(Not Lenny's mom!)
You know you're old when...you watch the MTV music awards and you don't know who the hell 90% of the performers are...and most of them annoy the hell out of you.
You know you're old when you listen to talk and news radio exclusively in the car (I mean minivan). (With an occasional book on tape when you're feeling really wild!)
boyfriend.
(Man they had a wicked fight last night!)
Just call me Mrs. Kravitz.
(Man they had a wicked fight last night!)
Just call me Mrs. Kravitz.
This Mrs. Kravitz
(Not Lenny's mom!)
Okay...now it's YOUR turn.