Although the rest of you may still be staring at that Bee Gees video (veeedeo) from yesterday's comments, I have moved on to my stupid Monday.
Okay, here. Here is the veedeo we're all obsessed with in the comments.
Dudes. I can't get past Robin's fine dancing abilities. Well. And Barry's shirt.
Dear Barry Gibb, You know I love you. But that shirt was effed up. The Wolfman Jack hair was fine, though. You're Barry Gibb. Poof it out, man. It's who you are.
No, really. Every time Robin starts with the dancing I get hysterical. It's like when I was little and heard the word "hips." For some reason I couldn't hang with that word. And everyone tried not to say "hips" in front of me because the 88 minutes of giggling weren't worth it. Oh, and Spiro Agnew. The name slayed me.
I was an odd child.
Oh. And f you just got here, my grandmother always pronounced it "veeedeo." Which, you know how in your family someone says something wrong, and then you are doomed to say it wrong your whole life after that? Like, once my cousin said, "Big bone-ded." I mean, she's in her 30s now and married. And yet we all say "big bone-ded."
I have to go. Please note the time, which is godawful early, and here I am up and showered and so forth. They asked me to come in early. To the place where I don't even really work. Where I was just supposed to work for a few days in April. Where I've been working late and on weekends. Now they need me to come in early.
What I'm saying to you is it's busy there. However, when the alarm went off at 6:00 instead of the usual 7:00, Edsel bounded out of bed as usual and Tallulah was all, "rully. you rully think lu get up dis hour?" and she rolled over and went back to sleep.
She hates me so much right now anyway. I just added to my annoyingness. Her incision continues to be disgusting, and the keep-her-quiet part is, you know, dumb. Although she doesn't do much when that cone is on. Mostly she stands eight inches from me looking forlorn. See above.
Okay, really going. Really. ...Oh! Just one more thing. Who's more annoyed with me now? You guys or Tallulah?
I keep hearing Hot Child in the City every time I get in the car. I mean, it's getting creepy. And no, I don't own a Nick Gilder CD or anything. I think it's some kind of message from the universe, but all I can figure is I'm so young to be loose and all alone. But let's face it. In whose world am I so young?
Going downtown now, to walk like I just don't care.