You Can't Prove That

*Pretends it hasn't been forever since she last posted*

So, Deirdre and I were walking home from work today, and this GINORMOUS bee suddenly dropped down between us and hovered for a moment, keeping pace with us.

If I didn't know better, I could have sworn I heard the bee say, "Hellooo ladies!" in his most pimp-daddiest of bee voices. He then stretched his wings around both of our shoulders and said, "What's a-BUZZin?"

OK, that's not true. The wings around our shoulders part, not the other stuff. That other stuff totally happened.

It's possible that I have had two beers, and am a light weight, and therefore am mildly-buzzed-(see what I did there?)-posting. Which is probably better than drunk-posting, which could lead to many tears and regrets later. It's possible. But you can't prove anything.

Uh oh, Cold as Ice by Foreigner just came on...time for a dance break.

That was awesome. I have some sweet moves. And you can't prove that I don't, because you did not just see what went down on that dance floor AKA my rug.

This concludes your evening of Drinking With Julia.

Please tip your waitresses. Or waiters. Tip somebody.