It's not what I thought it was going to be.
Today is Friday, and usually, there are nice things to be found at yard sales.
Something big is happening tomorrow, so going on the search for things just isn't going to happen. But this morning, before dropping somebody off at school, I was bound in my records. It was 8.30 and I was sitting in my maroon chair, listening to that song from Grease that everyone knows.
When the track began to play, I mouthed the lyrics while spinning around gleefully in my chair. There are no inhibitions at Eddie's House Party.
About a third-of-the-way in, Olivia Newton-John sings about how you shouldn't be shy about approaching her, then John Travolta screams, "Aaaaowwwww!" and falls to the floor.
When that verse began, I popped out of my chair a là Romney and began to mouth her words. Meanwhile, I put my hands on my hips and slowly pulled down my shorts. Needless to say, it was cold in that garage.
For some reason, the person here came to mind. Don't judge, whore.
As Newton-John sings "Meditate my direction/ feel your way", I ran my hands down my body to my thighs, and then thrust forward as Travolta screams in sadistic pleasure.
When Travolta continues on, I grabbed my jeans, put them on quickly, all while mouthing, "I better shape-up/ 'Cause you need a man". Oh God that was fun.
In a rush of erotic-filled adrenaline, I went to the player, picked-up the needle, and moved it back to the beginning and started from the beginning. Fuck I love it.
Around 8.35, I tweeted
I'm undressing to that song from 'Grease' everyone knows. I just might have a lucrative career in burlesque.If this continues, I just might have, provided that The Archenemy doesn't spoil it by saying I'm underaged. Because I'm not. I'm legal... in Georgia... Fulton County only.
