OK.
I know this is lame.
I know it's the easy way out.
But honestly, I've got a very luscious glass of red zinfandel next to me. And I'd like to continue drinking it, even though that would mean I would be killing brain cells that I have no business offing. Because they are sorely needed.
Which is sort of like being in the habit of doing drugs, man.
Not that I'd know anything about that. Good lord, no. I swear. The last time I did a line? Was my best friend's wedding, and she made me do it. What can I say? She was a total Bridezilla who insisted that her Maid of Honor snort at least one line of coke or she wasn't getting into the limo.
So ... I find myself breaking the law in a vain attempt to get my best friend to act respectable.
Can I just say how glad I am that the eighties are over?
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