We all went to dinner at BJ’s, and jawed about our various theater projects (Spelling Bee for me, Sunset Boulevard for Mom and Til). At some point, the question “do you have cowboy boots and a burqa?” was asked, but I don’t know the context. Nor do I wish to. Some things in life are better left a mystery.
Edit: Uh, right after I posted this, a video of fireworks exploding to the strains of some majestic orchestral music randomly popped up onto my screen, courtesy of WordPress. Now, if there’s one thing about life I know for sure, it’s that cutting to footage of fireworks is pretty much always a euphemism for doin’ it. So what I’m saying is…I think I just got sexually harassed. By my blog.
Typical Friday night.