Someone hit me with the tired stick, after the show tonight, and continued to beat me all the way home.
…By the time I was 20 minutes out, it was everything I could do to keep my eyeballs open, with the radio blasting house music in my ears.
A very disturbing drop-beat techno hybrid version of Pink’s “Just Give Me A Reason,” gave me plenty of one, to shake my head and listen out of pure-pained wonder at how somewhere, people would be jumping up and down to the beat, and tossing back shots drunkenly to this totally inappropriately fucked with legit song.
…As if there aren’t already 30-zillion other songs that are already made for getting your shit on in a club.
…Meanwhile, I finally got home, washed the things I needed to, and have fallen into bed.
Ready to zonk.
A super late/early night/morning yesterday with Marty, post-show, is the culprit, I think. Even sleeping in didn’t seem to prevent that lovely, 4am-shadow-under-eye look, I’ve been rocking all day…partly influenced by left-over show liner that takes two days of face-washing to get all the way off. This morning I looked like Capt. Jack Sparrow, minus the dreads and facial hair.
Super hot, you guys.
(Epic yawn that splits head wide open.)
…Now is a good time to exit, I think. But not before bragging about my hair dye.
…I was peeing, the box was at eye-level, I actually read it for the first time since…oh…the first purchase of the same color and brand, about eight or so years ago.
Welcome to 2013, kids!
…Even our hair dye de-wrinkles, and fat-plumps, for tighter looking, infant skin…
While covering grays!
…Which isn’t a confusing oxymoron at all!
~D
