Last night Bossy’s brother and her husband played a secret show with their rock band, rehearsing in front of a small audience for a couple of spring shows. These guys are more fun than a barrel full of monkeys.
I volunteer to be their groupie! I want to know where they are playing next? I want their bios! I want photos of their youth! I want their lyrics! I want to know what instruments they use! What brand of toothpaste?! What do they eat for breakfast! WHat’s their inspiration!? And which one is the Walrus?!
See. I make a great groupie. It’s all about knowing the right questions.
Bossy’s brother would be chagrined to know that he is my secret boyfriend. So don’t tell him. Because, you know, people who use the word “chagrined” without irony are creepy.
I would like to hear their music!!! I suspect it might be a good bit more… MUSICAL, shall we say? than the odd ska produced by the husband of a certain Salt Lake City blogger who Treats Our Bossy Like A Snowman.
Did Bossy experience flashbacks to her groupie days?
I volunteer to be their groupie! I want to know where they are playing next? I want their bios! I want photos of their youth! I want their lyrics! I want to know what instruments they use! What brand of toothpaste?! What do they eat for breakfast! WHat’s their inspiration!? And which one is the Walrus?!
See. I make a great groupie. It’s all about knowing the right questions.
I just want to eat their souls.
Sorry, did I say that out loud?
Bossy’s brother would be chagrined to know that he is my secret boyfriend. So don’t tell him. Because, you know, people who use the word “chagrined” without irony are creepy.
is that tin angel?
I would like to hear their music!!! I suspect it might be a good bit more… MUSICAL, shall we say? than the odd ska produced by the husband of a certain Salt Lake City blogger who Treats Our Bossy Like A Snowman.
Keep tossing out those clues, sly Bossy. I’ll figure it out yet!!