See You At The Show
Published August 2011
There’s not much I love more in life other than alcohol and classic rock (other than books and the beach, of course. And maybe zombies, I love zombies, too. And my dogs. And dogs in general, really. And Taco Bell. Oh, and Starbucks. I think I’ve actually had too much coffee today, now that I think about it).
True story - a few years ago, when I got married, I walked down the aisle to an a capella version of a Journey song. A song that I loved way before Glee and college girls with perky tits made cool again, might I add. I swear this was because I wanted everyone to know I was still a wild and free spirit, and not because I wanted to piss off his very strict Catholic mom.
I swear that isn’t why we divorced. Pretty sure, anyway.
I’m certain his family sits at the dinner table and says sentences like “We should have known, not only did she not want to get married in a church, but she forced you to walk down the aisle to some Heathen rock song!”
I’m also certain that at no point does the conversation get continued with “... it’s too bad we can’t blame the divorce on that and not on you being able to keep your dick in your pants, Dearest Son .“
Back to the matter at hand.
A book with rock stars and sexy politicians? This may be too hot for me to handle. It may also be just what I need after a long, long, looooooong winter of no "heat", if you know what I mean, wink wink, nudge nudge.