The day after another hugely successful Tex in the City event, I just want to grab random people on the street and hug them and kiss them and dry hump them. I walk with a bounce, but not one of those bounces that makes my pony tail swing back and forth. No, I hate that and want to rip those offending pony tails out by their bloody roots and get them DNA-tested for the “You Annoy the Hell Out of Me” gene so we can prevent these gene carriers from reproducing.
But I walk with a jaunty spring in my step. I smile and bite my lower lip and don’t stop when I know I’ve been caught by a passer by. I laugh out loud and sing stupid songs with the lyrics all wrong and say “Mornin’ fellas!” to construction workers and policemen. And if a guy makes a lewd comment about my Pa-Dunk-a-Dunk trunk, I say, “Thanks!” I flash my big Texas smile and the sun reflects off my left canine tooth and goes, “Trrrlllink”.
I love my friends. That means you and you and I even love my Amish ones that don’t blog like Heidi and Scott and Sheila. And I love the new friends I’ve made like Ken and Keith. Even though it’s too early to say “I love you,” I’m going to say it anyway and you don’t even have to say it back because I feel that good, and I don’t need silly affirmations to know that you love me too even though you’re too afraid to admit it you big old scaredy cat.
Oh sure, the *FREE* producer’s seats for last night’s production of Urinetown the Musical and my *FREE* dinner courtesy of the managers at Dallas BBQ were great, but seeing our friend Charlie Pollock give an outstanding performance and then be such a gracious, courteous Southern Boy to all of our Tex in the City guests, well, I just want to wrap myself in saran wrap and slide down a Slip ‘N Slide with baby oil all over me because that just sounds so outrageously fun the way my insides feel. Come on, let’s do it!