Secret Agent Tiff
OMFG!
Okay, so this is the guy from across the alley who likes to stare at me every time I go out in my backyard. Seriously. Every. Fucking. Time.
Here he is pushing dog shit down the alley and into the storm drain. How sexy is that?
And then he took off his shirt. He posed and touched his man boobs for a good 10 minutes while I was on the deck, but stopped by the time I grabbed my camera and took pictures through the slats in the blinds. I so would NOT tap that. Not even in an alternate universe where a beer gut and a farmer's tan is considered hot.
Check out the shirt. Essex Pullo knows his name.
Moral of the story: If you're gonna' gawk at me in a pervy manner, expect me to secretly take your picture and plaster it all over my LJ. Why? Because it amuses me.
I need to make a drink. I'm still trying to come down from Buggy's dance recital. Being a room mom was fun and all, but... DAMN! That was some crazy shit, man. I got screamed on by Dance-zilla twice. Once for taking a picture with my shitty camera phone at tech rehearsal and again for not knowing where to stand after taking the girls to the stage for the final bow at dress rehearsal. She told me there would be no cameras allowed for both rehearsal and recital, so I left my camera at home. Of course, everyone else brought theirs. No pictures for me. BOO to you, Dance-zilla! BOO, I say!
On the upside, the adorable boy I've been calling 'Cutie Patootie' ever since I saw his picture on the wall at the dance studio is one hell of a dancer. He totally made me like a Bon Jovi song and that's saying a lot. And then he danced with Buggy's teacher, the fabulous Miss Rachel, which upped his awesome points even more. I hope his parents are proud of him because I believe from the bottom of my heart that that kid is going places.
Anyway, I'm gonna' go have that drink.
P.S. I think the zombies infected my kids with their undead cooties. Or they might be retarded. I don't think zombies are supposed to lick windows.
