What tastes right.
I was at the managers bridge talking to my supervisor. He was telling me what to do before i left. Then he asked me a curious question. "Do you have a boy?" i gave him the, did you just ask me if i had a boy face. the only thing that could come out was: why? Anyways he proceeded to tell me that im different lately. That im exceptionally smiley and i seem to giggle more and that i guess pretty much im giving off the "glowy nothing can go wrong im getting laid look";) I think i act the same. But perhaps there is some truth to that. I am fucking happy. MY TURN!
as the lovely Barbra once sang:
Don't tell me not to live,
Just sit and putter,
Life's candy and the sun's
A ball of butter.
Don't bring around a cloud
To rain on my parade.
Don't tell me not to fly--
I've simply got to.
If someone takes a spill,
It's me and not you.
Who told you you're allowed
To rain on my parade!
I'll march my band out,
I'll beat my drum,
And if I'm fanned out,
Your turn at bat, sir.
At least I didn't fake it.
Hat, sir, I guess I didn't make it!
But whether I'm the rose
Of sheer perfection,
Or freckle on the nose
Of life's complexion,
The cinder or the shiny apple of it's eye,
I gotta fly once,
I gotta try once,
Only can die once, right, sir?
Ooh, love is juicy,
Juicy, and you see
I gotta have my bite, sir!
Get ready for me, love,
'cause I'm a comer,
I simply gotta march,
My heart's a drummer.
Don't bring around a cloud
To rain on my parade!
I'm gonna live and live now,
Get what I want--i know how,
One roll for the whole shebang,
One throw, that bell will go clang,
Eye on the target--and wham--
One shot, one gun shot, and bam--
Hey, mister arnstein, here I am!
I'll march my band out,
I will beat my drum,
And if I'm fanned out,
Your turn at bat, sir,
At least I didn't fake it.
Hat, sir, I guess I didn't make it.
Get ready for me, love,
'cause I'm a comer,
I simply gotta march,
My heart's a drummer.
Nobody, no, nobody
Is gonna rain on my parade!
as the lovely Barbra once sang:
Don't tell me not to live,
Just sit and putter,
Life's candy and the sun's
A ball of butter.
Don't bring around a cloud
To rain on my parade.
Don't tell me not to fly--
I've simply got to.
If someone takes a spill,
It's me and not you.
Who told you you're allowed
To rain on my parade!
I'll march my band out,
I'll beat my drum,
And if I'm fanned out,
Your turn at bat, sir.
At least I didn't fake it.
Hat, sir, I guess I didn't make it!
But whether I'm the rose
Of sheer perfection,
Or freckle on the nose
Of life's complexion,
The cinder or the shiny apple of it's eye,
I gotta fly once,
I gotta try once,
Only can die once, right, sir?
Ooh, love is juicy,
Juicy, and you see
I gotta have my bite, sir!
Get ready for me, love,
'cause I'm a comer,
I simply gotta march,
My heart's a drummer.
Don't bring around a cloud
To rain on my parade!
I'm gonna live and live now,
Get what I want--i know how,
One roll for the whole shebang,
One throw, that bell will go clang,
Eye on the target--and wham--
One shot, one gun shot, and bam--
Hey, mister arnstein, here I am!
I'll march my band out,
I will beat my drum,
And if I'm fanned out,
Your turn at bat, sir,
At least I didn't fake it.
Hat, sir, I guess I didn't make it.
Get ready for me, love,
'cause I'm a comer,
I simply gotta march,
My heart's a drummer.
Nobody, no, nobody
Is gonna rain on my parade!