Confession #1 – I can never remember whether or not the song is “Pompeii” and the band is Bastille or vice versa, but I am obsessed with it all the same.
Confession #2 – Reading Jane Borden’s debutante-in-NYC memoir, “I Totally Meant to Do That,” made me wish I had more southerner in me than my love for pulled chicken and fried okra. That’s not all that scandalous. Here is the real confession: when I am (1) tired, (2) drunk, or (3) fake polite I speak with a disturbingly authentic southern drawl. I used to work 10+ hours shifts at a bar that encouraged imbibing and catered exclusively to obnoxious tourists; hitting the trifecta meant that I would introduce myself to my tables and the folks from Alabama would always exclaim “you sound just like us!!”
Confession #3 – When you wash your hands you are supposed to sing “Happy Birthday” twice to make sure that you do it long enough. I felt silly singing to no one and hand-washing is about killing not birthing so now when I wash my hands I sing “Happy Deathday, dear germs…” x2.
Confession #4 – The Buzzfeed article linking to old Disney shorts pretty much made my life. When I was a kid I had a VHS recording of some Scooby Doo episodes and the short I embedded below, “Applecore,” was also on the video. I got so nostalgic rewatching it 20 odd years later.
Confession #5 – Even though Webster is of German stock, he shivers like a little girl whenever he goes outside in the winter. Some times I tease him that he is a chilly dog. Then I tell him he wishes he was a chili dog because then he’d be nice and warm. Then I laugh hysterically at my own punny joke and the dog gives me this face:
Bonus Confession – I have to Google “Roman Numerals” every time I write one of these posts.