Seriously. Can't. Write.
I'm trying, believe me.
Something poetic needs to happen, I think.
Some people are born funny, and I envy them.
Paul, you are not one of those people, so don't even try to say you're funnier than me.
But I love you.
Some people think they are funny and they spend all of their time trying to convince you that they are.
Paul, you are not one of those people either, so chillax.
Last Saturday I went with Paul to work one of his events--Pain In the Grass, hosted by KISW and sponsored by...the National Guard!
I had heard of two of the many bands that played.
But you couldn't pay me to go watch a show.
Maybe I'm being judgemental on that front...it might have been enjoyable.
But, as Paul so eloquently stated, Wal-Mart probably saw a severe decline in sales that day as the entirety of their target demographic spent the day at the White River Ampatheatre getting blitzed and blazed out of their minds.
We went home feeling very good about our lack of trashiness.
Also, feeling like we needed a shower. Dirty people.
Actually, I had a lot of fun. I loved watching Paul do his recruiting thing, and I felt like I was a part of something.
I'm a little proud of that man. Just a little.
Life is changing again...so maybe that'll give me fodder for the blog.
One can hope.