Speaking of wholesome songs from my childhood, today on Sirius XM radio (Pop2K channel), I heard “What’s Your Fantasy” by Ludacris for the first time since attending/standing-stiffly-with-arms-folded-at Oratory Preparatory middle school dances. Am I the only one who completely missed the lyrics? Like, all of them? It’s quite an exhaustive list. I almost crashed my car at the (thankfully faded) memory of sixth graders humping each other to this song in a dark, hot gymnasium. SIXTH GRADE. Are you even ten years old in sixth grade? When I see a freshman in college now, I’m like, wow, you are a child. So what do sixth graders look like? Fetuses? Terrifying. How were the chaperones not traumatized by these images? They must have been drinking to forget. Feels like the only way to cope. No wonder my parents hated those dances.
And this is how I know
I’m getting old. Thoughts like
these occur with increasing frequency.
I always remember my dad’s line for when we thought they were being mean
parents for not letting us attend this or that event: “You think it’s because we
don’t remember, but it’s because we do.”
ANYWAYS, I meant for
this post to be a small update, but I think I’ll leave it there. The Blob is momentarily
reactivated. Details to come. GOD BLESS.
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