The Ramblings Of A Mad, White Woman, Part 4

Tonight, as I was wrapping Mike's awesome Christmas present and listening to Pandora, I couldn't help but think "What happened to BBMak?"

Look, I was listening to the Backstreet Boys station, and I know I'm going to hear about this when I get to work tomorrow because my boss' respect level for me just went down about 20 points. So, right, I was listening to the station that's all Backstreet, and BBMak came on, and we're back to what I already said I was thinking.
Seriously, shouldn't BBMak have gotten some sort of British medal of honor for being hot and British? Not to mention that they wrote one of the best broken heart songs ever.

Observe:

Do you people even know what I'm talking about? Am I preaching to the choir or did everyone check out about 2 sentences into this post? Am I about to lose a bunch of friends because most of my friends are at least 5 years older than me and YOUR respect levels for me just went down about 20 points?
I am not ashamed to say that I bought , AND STILL HAVE!, their one and only CD (bought with babysitting money! Basically what happened was, I was babysitting this 6 year old girl, and she had their CD and we listened to it and I thought "yeah! I like these guys!" and when my dad picked me up I made him take me to Best Buy. Look I was 12, okay? FINE, I was 14). Only CD that I know of anyways. Maybe they still exist in Great Britain? Do they have more CDs!?!?!

So, these were the things going through my head as I lovingly signed the gift tag "To: Scamper Camper, From: Chesty LaRue"

Long story.

Actually it's not.

Here I will tell you.

We, and by we I mean me, decided that we call each other "babe" too much and also isn't that what everyone calls everyone when they're in a relationship??? So I said we needed to think of better nicknames for each other. You should know that I thought of Scamper Camper all on my own, and Mike did NOT think of his name for me on his own. He stole Chesty LaRue from Homer Simpson. I was really gunning for Busty St. Clair, but oh well. You take what you can get. Am I right ladies?

The moral of this post is, Pete's crate does not make a very useful table for wrapping presents. The tape will keep falling through and do you know how fun it is to crawl into the crate of a dog that sheds every second of every hour? Of every day?