On Sunday night, after a day of pretending to be the (unshowered with serious bed head) Real Housewives of ITB Leigh and I found ourselves at the Beach Boys concert with two strapping young men. While the Beach Boys may think it would be nice to be older, I am going to go out on a limb and say that I am glad that we're not. We showed up at 8 and I was convinced I had missed Kokomo (the only Beach Boys song I really know). Turns out we didn't miss Kokomo, nor did we miss their old man intermission (I thought the Eagles were the only geezers lame enough to take an intermission during their show). We did however miss the hot dogs, the pretzels and the fried chicken sammies. I would also like to point out that we may or may not have held up a banner that said something to the effect of "The Party is Here" and there may or may not have been a giant lei involved that somehow ended up in the ketchup that was on my dress and in someone's hair before being rubbed down their body like a towel.
The Monday Fundays: because whoever told you chicken biscuits were bad for you lied
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