BEING BAD.
SHE IS BAD
I'M OVER 53. I've EARNED ME THE
RIGHT TO SOME BIG BAD -
we're talkin' 'tude.
I SPIT BAD FLOWERS. DON'T TRIP ON THEM;
MAKE A BOUQUET?
I'M WEARING CLOTHES. SOME THRIFTED, SOME GIFTS. ALL TERRIBLY, HORRIBLY BAD.
Bad plaid. Very, very bad. Baaad.
say it like a goat
worn to the nordstrom opening, sep 19 post -
farked tartan jacket, big bad pants.
(edit: the link is not on anymore. oh well.)
AND
THERE'S CARROT IN MY SCARF/WRAP, MAYBE EVEN
STUCK IN MY TEETH, SO I'M LINKING
TO ANNE'S 52 PICK-ME-UP: CARROT/PERSEVERENCE
AT SPYGIRL
______________________________________
THIS IS A NO-GUILT POST. FEEL FREE NOT TO COMMENT.
TOO MANY POSTS TO KEEP UP.
Edit: I had a birthday during 2015, but not terribly, horribly recently. All I can say is I'm not a Libra. I've just been thinking about age lately.






