that's the beginning to a song that's been in my head all day. The next line is "The homecoming queen's gotta gun" And I can't stop singing it because I was "graciously volunteered" by my boss to plan Homecoming. What bliss.
I am trying to find the joy in it and pretend I'm planning a wedding since everyone knows I LOVE to do that. Maybe I'll wear a big white dress. . .
I'm thinking the penthouse at the Peterson Automotive Museum, because, well. . . that's where Biggie was shot and they are really cheap.
HAHA. They never should have put me in charge of this. Oh yeah and I'm planning a parade for a Friday afternoon which will block a really busy intersection in LA. Don't tell anyone I told you, but I'd stay off of Crenshaw on Nov. 6th.
Only becasue it seems fitting, in the words of the Captain,
peace out bitches.
I must help you. Nay, I will help you! Crom has spoken to me in the midst of my inebriated, late night, "why am I awake!" stupor. Crom! Prom! Doom!
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