Great. Like ALLLLWAAAYZZZZ!!!

I finally got the new issue of Missbehave today. So I don't seem like some sloth-ass creature who hibernates during the daytime in her room/cave and survives off KoolAid, microwaveable mac & cheese, and weird grape soda/cereal combos, I have ventured from my homely surroundings into the nasty bright lights and dirty sandy sidewalks of the city of Atlanta before to seek out this elusive compilation of gloss and glitz. But the Caroline St. Barnes and Noble just NOW got it in.

So I made a beeline for it, bought it, and walked back to my car, which was parked at Criminal Records so I would have to actually walk places and be mobile appendage-wise instead of the WAY more comfy motor-wise.

While I was punishing my loins for being fat harvesters, I started to read my copy of Missbehave. Granted, it took me about ten minutes to read the Editor's Letter because walking/reading/not tripping over the many cracks in the sidewalk was a bit tricky, but I did read to page 17 before concentrating on the street ahead of me. So, yeah. Woo.

And might I just add that reading/walking with your head down definitely makes it easy to breeze past dudes that wanna holla at you. This one guy was trying to (and failing to) spit game at me from the PASSENGER'S SIDE of a car ("No Scrubs" anyone??) but I was pretty much giving him the Frigidaire so I guess he got frustrated and finally shouted:

"You got on ugly ass shoes though!"

I laughed all the way to my car. I was wearing my pink sneakers from Urban Outfitters. They are relatively clean, for the things I get into on a daily basis, and the laces are tied. I couldn't see what ish this guy had with my shoes. If I were any other girl with lower self esteem, I might be upset or sad. But I don't sit in a passenger's seat, so we'll see who wins out in the end, bitch.

I guess there was/is some crazy biker fun time thing going down over near the Vortex 'cos the back entrance to the parking lot behind the Tower Spirits was closed and I had to walk the long way, which meant I had to walk by the creepy/ill biker men and got hit on once again, by dudes that could have totally been my illegit dad in a heartbeat. Ugh. Bleh.

Finally, I got to my car and then tried to read my Missbehave a lil more, but it was a failed attempt because it was way too hot outside to just sit in an idling car with the windows down. That whole thing is ineffective when there is no breeze. So I drove off and almost hit a too-cool-for-school hipster couple. Atlanta is chock full of those.

So I went home and then FINALLY got to sit down and read my Missbehave. It was great. As always. It was a long, laborious process, but at least I didn't have to pretend to be happy and excited. It was like genuine sex.

No faking involved.

Deuces,
Erika