Sometimes I worry that I’m SUPER-stereotypically white when I dance — just awkward and stiff, totally unsexy, as if my hips need to be oiled, Tin-Man-style, and with no rhythm whatsoever.
This is not one of those times.
Sometimes I worry that I’m SUPER-stereotypically white when I dance — just awkward and stiff, totally unsexy, as if my hips need to be oiled, Tin-Man-style, and with no rhythm whatsoever.
This is not one of those times.
Well… I mean, come on… It’s been far too long since I’ve publicly embarrassed myself.
Frisky Friday: Girls Night Out Striptease Dance Party:
In case you don’t have Facebook (and GOOD for you, fight the power!), there’s more info on the venue site.
What my office is really lacking is a piano for me to dance on. (Yes, Glee again — whatever. I wouldn’t knock the song until you’ve seen me dance on a piano.)
They told me I couldn’t sing and dance on my desk anymore, but this chair is getting the ride of its life.
(Don’t judge me. The Bangles were the business. You don’t even KNOW.)
Today I took an Intro to Burlesque class at Kink Shoppe, which means I turned BEET red as I flaunted my flat ass in front of a room full of people, took my shirt off (tank top underneath), and had it reaffirmed that it’s hot when I play with my hair.
“Also told ya that I like to bite,
Well, yeah, I guess it’s obvious, I also like to write.”
I’m not attributing this, because you should know. In your SOUL.