One Hundred Years...
Last night while being a hag at the gay bar, I told my boys that I've finally finished reading One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Not that this means much to them, well, they aren't exactly the kind of people who value the joys of reading - unless it's Cosmo. Upon hearing this they decided to throw a theme party entitled "One Hundred Years of Sexiness". This is obviously less of a celebration for the completion of my reading and more of an excuse for them to all dress up like sexy Mexicans. Now how shall I convince them that no one in the book wore lycra and sparkles?
Besides reading silly books, I watch the City Council meetings on TV almost religiously. I stare adoringly at Bill Peduto, District 8, and Sala Udin...I'm a self-admitted dork. But it's good TV - there's such action and drama - not to mention that the sexual tension between Twanda Carlisle and Doug Shields is palpable! They have great guest stars like the blabbering old man and one-time mayoral candidate, Les Ludwig and the charming British City Solicitor, Cindy. What more could you want? Then as they roll the credits, this hysterical 80's music comes on which always forces me to get up and dance (in traditional white-girl fashion).
Yeah, I need to stop myself.