March 05, 2008
I’ll tell ya
You can put me out on the street
Put me out with no shoes on my feet
But, put me out, put me out
Put me out of misery
- The Rolling Stones
I’ve been meaning to tell y’all this for months as I know how much you love the randomness that makes up my life.
First of all, let me explain that somewhere along the way, I became flat out OBSESSED with “Beast of Burden.” Such a great, great, song. Lately the “put me out of misery” part seems to speak to me for some reason. Hmm…Anyway...
During football season, I typically go to Tuscaloosa the night before the game and stay with my parents in their RV. (They have a really nice one and color me surprised to learn that I actually enjoy it, despite my claustrophobia). Towards the end of the season I was finishing up getting ready and the RV next to us started playing “Beast of Burden” so naturally I got really into the song and had to sing along, loudly. My mother walked by and caught me doing something to my hair while singing:
You’re a pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty girl
Pretty, pretty
Such a pretty, pretty, pretty girl
She promptly patted me on the shoulder and said, “Yes, you are a pretty girl!”
Too funny.
Put me out with no shoes on my feet
But, put me out, put me out
Put me out of misery
- The Rolling Stones
I’ve been meaning to tell y’all this for months as I know how much you love the randomness that makes up my life.
First of all, let me explain that somewhere along the way, I became flat out OBSESSED with “Beast of Burden.” Such a great, great, song. Lately the “put me out of misery” part seems to speak to me for some reason. Hmm…Anyway...
During football season, I typically go to Tuscaloosa the night before the game and stay with my parents in their RV. (They have a really nice one and color me surprised to learn that I actually enjoy it, despite my claustrophobia). Towards the end of the season I was finishing up getting ready and the RV next to us started playing “Beast of Burden” so naturally I got really into the song and had to sing along, loudly. My mother walked by and caught me doing something to my hair while singing:
You’re a pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty girl
Pretty, pretty
Such a pretty, pretty, pretty girl
She promptly patted me on the shoulder and said, “Yes, you are a pretty girl!”
Too funny.
Posted by Amy at 08:00:00 |

Liesa Burke wrote: