"I said a Rasta lion... I ain't lyin'."

As I was sitting on my bed social networking doing something super important, I heard my dad yell for me to come upstairs. I thought "Oh great, what am I in trouble for now??" Yeah, I'm 25 years old and I still get scared that my parents are going to yell at me for things. Deal with it.

So I get to the bottom of the stairs and my dad is already waiting for me at the top, super excited about his latest purchase. He says to me "I got this shirt for your mom, but she hates it. I'm going to keep it, though. I think it's really awesome! Open it up and see how cool it is!!" He then whipped the shirt down the stairs and smacked me right in the face with it. Nice, dad. Nice. -_-

Let me stop here for a second, and say that my dad is (usually) very well dressed. He is a salesman, so he has no shortage of expensive pants, nice button-up shirts, fancy ties, and shiny shoes. What I was preparing to unfold, though, was something I never could have prepared for in a million years.

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WAIT FOR IT

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THE HORROR!

What was he thinking?! I'm serious. Someone please tell me. Actually, what was the "designer" of this shirt smoking??

Nevermind... I think I can answer that.

I quickly told Bri about the awful events that unfolded, and what she proceeded to do made my night  week  year  life. I laughed so hard that I cried and did that gross, gaggy, bronchitis-sounding cough. If I choked to death, it would have been worth it.

Prepare to (almost) die.

Thank you, Bri. ♥


30 DAY MUSIC CHALLENGE
Click here to see the entire list.

Day 24 – A song that you want to play at your funeral:

I've always said that I want Live and Let Die played at my funeral, complete with pyrotechnics.




Gives me goosebumps every time.