Just Watch Me

by pjmcbride

I have been disinclined to post recently, since I’ve been so stuffed with green slime that I feel like the Grinch, not to mention (“Oh, go ahead and mention it,” they say) the nights when I lost my voice and had to communicate via hand gesture and facial expression, like a mute beast or a mediocre mime.


–My thanks to whoever has been rampaging wildly through the archives lately (“like a wild boar,” one is tempted to observe).  There’s stuff in there I forgot I wrote. Sometimes I even write it again.


I don’t think of myself as a dressed-up sort of person, but when I’m wearing (as I am now) a sweater and cords, and everyone around me is in sweatshirts and jeans, you gotta wonder. And it’s not like I don’t care about being comfortable. Wearing comfortable clothes is one of The Rules.


“What I like about you

You really know how to dance

Up, down, all around, make me think of true romance…”

Um, what you’re thinking about is not romance, much less true romance.

And while we’re talking about dancing (which is all I’ll ever do about it), “Watch Me Whip/Watch Me Nae-Nae”? Well, which is it? And what does it mean? Yeah, I know it’s dancing, but what exactly is a “nae-nae”? And why is it spelled that way, instead of, for example, “nay-nay”? And if you do anything that can be referred to as “stanky-leg,” I want nothing to do with you.

OK, I’ll go away now.