In the only news of the day…
I walked up to G-Man and gave
a little an epic shoulder shimmy and said, “Wanna kiss a germ? A big sexy germ? Come and get it.”
The G-Man did a double-blink and Bust. A. Gut. Laughing.*
Whatever I was selling, he wasn’t buying.
Me — “What? Is it the little soup noodles clinging to my hoodie?”
In sickness and in health, babe. In sickness and in health.
And this is how we’re rolling on Hump Day.
Is it wrong that Faith Hill’s This Kiss is rolling through my head like a brain worm? Hm. It is unstoppable.
Here be Hump Day.
Nothing to see here.
*Footnote: He Did Not want to kiss a germ, shimmy-sexy or otherwise. The big chicken… or rooster.