“She’d rather wear a pair of cut-off jeans than a fancy evening dress
And with her windows rolled down
And her hair blown all around
She’s a hot southern mess.”Brad Paisley, “Old Alabama”
Oh hai, I saw Brad Paisley live this weekend. Not that I remember any of it. Because, drunk. Thank you Fernando the Marine from Miami who kept pouring shots of Fireball down my throat in the parking lot. I forget the concert in its entirety, but I won’t forget you!
In unrelated news, had a date tonight. I was so fed up with a couple people/situations that by the time my friend said, “Um, I’ve ordered a drink. Where are you?” I picked up my shit and ran.
God I love working in civilization.
So here’s the thing. One of my boys has been chasing me. And while I will never, ever let myself be caught … I slowed down a bit to let one catch up.
I do this faux-lationship thing every now and again. Because, a girl does get tired of running away. That, and you know, fun is a nice thing to have, too. God knows you don’t have to marry the guy.
In any event, it’s always amusing when someone figures out just how ticklish you are beneath your hard-ass exterior …