Yes, I know I have those lyrics written incorrectly. No, I do not care. I used to think that was how the Vanilla Ice classic went. You know, back in the day of L.A. Gear sneakers, rugby shirts courtesy of the Gap, ESPRIT jeans, and slouchy socks. And don't forget the hair. I was never super-tease-a-licious like one of my five older sisters used to tease the mane. One year, this particular sister's hair was actually cut off in her school portrait because the photographer couldn't fit it all in the frame, but I certainly cannot say I NEVER fell victim to the pooftease. HAHAHAHA. Classic.
Much to my chagrin, it has been ice-storming up here. Grrrreat. I don't miss this weather. Nope, not at all. I am supposed to be leaving the northeast part of the country on Sunday or Monday. Hopefully the weather decides to shape itself up and stop being a complete buttface. There is not much else worse than being stranded somewhere when all you want to do is leave. Times like these really tend to clearly display my idiosyncratic nomadic needs and ways.
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