Oh, I thought you’d still be mine
When I kissed you goodbye
Oh, and you might be with her
But I still had your first.

Why was Cher Lloyd allowed to change her clothing on the way to the police station? Someone explain that to me, please.

After the earworm has wiggled itself into your cerebral cortex, we can continue with this post. The original idea for this post was something entitled “The Swinging Door,” but I’m vacationing from the depressing for today. Well, a half-day anyway.

Yesterday afternoon, near evening, Miranda decided to kidnap me after my hard day at work. Not taking any pain killers, the night wasn’t exactly something I longed for. Still, Miranda insisted and there’s no telling her no. So onward we went and we talked about everything. And after not hanging out with my friends in one setting for a while now, it was nice. Something I needed to get my mind off of everything, even though that’s what we spoke about.

In a matter of hours, we spoke about my failed relationship with Jeanna, the year 2008, her ex-husband, the person who’s pre-occupying my mind, and everything in between. We also discussed the swinging door/the Hank & Karen aspect of my love life. A fun night, in summation.

It’s okay. I won’t keep you any longer. You can play the song again.

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