Interesting survey about your circadian rhythms: [link] Mine, unsurprisingly is a definite morning type. It says that given my druthers, my natural wake up time would be around 5:15 AM so to start light therapy then.
That's about right. I get up at 5:00ish without an alarm every day.
Right, but they realize it once Dude walks into the bar. He answered her cheating ad and said to meet him at the bar.
Which puts it one step ahead of "Babooshka", since if I'm reading that song right, they wind up meeting and he
still
doesn't realise it's his own wife. His sword-wielding, bikini-clad wife, which may admittedly be a little outside of the usual context, but still.
Also, thanks for all of the surgery ~ma. It went okay. We have to go back in October. There was a pharmacy fuck up due to the new electronic medical record system. But it's been resolved with a mean phone call.
I still want to know what happens if you have sex in the champagne room.
Clorox wipes. One hopes.
My only commentary on the "Escape" exegesis is that until I was 13 I thought the lyric went, "If you like bean enchiladas..."
I really don't. I tried making some a couple of weeks ago and they were much less tasty than I'd hoped.
"Billy Don't Be a Hero" is on the Top 40 in hell.
I wish my brain would let me become nostalgic for "Sister Goldenhair," but it's my most persistent earworm.
until I was 13 I thought the lyric went, "If you like bean enchiladas..."
I am singing it this way forever now.
I want a complete exegesis of "Billy Don't Be a Hero" by COB tomorrow. With footnotes.
Sadly, I could probably do this without irony. And add a sidebar about "The Night Chicago Died."
My most persistent earworm is George M. Cohan's "I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy". I am not sure what that says about me.
There's a webcomic going around that's Excape++--they're actually having an affair with each other, and she's gotten pregnant despite pretending to be either a boy or Hitler...or something. Looking it up would break my brain, though.
"Billy Don't Be a Hero" is on the Top 40 in hell.
To drive home the point that you've been a fool with your life.