(no subject)
As most of you know, I generally compose songs for your rolling-eyes pleasure on the occasion of a holiday. However, as my finger is sore and I'm more interested in another creative task at this point, I will instead share with you a Ramsey family classic:
She walked into the room one Saturday morning,
For twenty years we'd been man and wife.
She said she's gonna leave,
and she thought that I would grieve,
But I had to stick my finger in my eye to cry.
That woman thought that I would miss her.
The reason she left was to make me sad.
But if I hadn't cried,
She'd have stayed here 'til I died,
so I stuck my finger in my eye and cried.
Oh, oh poor me!
(poor me)
Oh, oh poor me!
(poor me)
If I hadn't cried,
she'd have stayed here 'til I died,
so I stuck my finger in my eye and cried.
My coffee is a little chunky this morning. Stoopid filters, made of paper and foldy-like. I would spurn you if you didn't bring me such addictive goodness.
So anyway, you may be asking yourself, "self, what creative project is Allison undertaking? How could it possibly soak up all of her creativity and not give me my original holiday song?" Well, OK, it's not a very creative project but I have chunky coffee so deal with it. I'm attempting to come up with the ultimate alcoholic beverage named after a crappy song. Sure, it will require testing, but I'm up for the challenge. And I know lots of crappy songs.
And so, a lovely morning to all, and to all, a good firecracker.
She walked into the room one Saturday morning,
For twenty years we'd been man and wife.
She said she's gonna leave,
and she thought that I would grieve,
But I had to stick my finger in my eye to cry.
That woman thought that I would miss her.
The reason she left was to make me sad.
But if I hadn't cried,
She'd have stayed here 'til I died,
so I stuck my finger in my eye and cried.
Oh, oh poor me!
(poor me)
Oh, oh poor me!
(poor me)
If I hadn't cried,
she'd have stayed here 'til I died,
so I stuck my finger in my eye and cried.
My coffee is a little chunky this morning. Stoopid filters, made of paper and foldy-like. I would spurn you if you didn't bring me such addictive goodness.
So anyway, you may be asking yourself, "self, what creative project is Allison undertaking? How could it possibly soak up all of her creativity and not give me my original holiday song?" Well, OK, it's not a very creative project but I have chunky coffee so deal with it. I'm attempting to come up with the ultimate alcoholic beverage named after a crappy song. Sure, it will require testing, but I'm up for the challenge. And I know lots of crappy songs.
And so, a lovely morning to all, and to all, a good firecracker.