You know what I think is totally fun? Going through the local, small-town Dairy Queen drive-thru and ordering a butterscotch-dipped cone in a British accent. That is a self-imposed gigglefest, people.
Speaking of funny voices, the powers-that-be at my company asked if I'd be the "voice" of my company and do the voicemail message on my corporate main line. I know this isn't a big deal at all, but I am looking at it as my 10 seconds of fame, especially since I've always considered my voice to be about as professional as a 15-year old boy going through puberty. Now, everyone who calls my company will hear my scratchy voice in its full glory. I didn't get any sort of promotion or extra pay for this monumental task, but I am expecting Husband-Man to start stocking Perrier in the fridge, as I can now refuse well water, since I am a celebrity and all.
You know what else is awesome? Neil Diamond concerts. Since we're on the subject of doing very weird things like ordering Dairy Queen in a hill-jack town in a British accent, Neil Diamond concerts are about as cool. But I've been to three or four now, and they've always been great fun. I grew up on the music. My sister and I were subjected to it at a young age, as my Mother has always believed that Neil was her long-lost soulmate. Neil Diamond is fabulously sparkly, and I love that a good Jewish boy has put out a really great Christmas album. Love.
I was reminded of Mr. Diamond and his cheese-arific concerts when I watched Saving Silverman on satellite the other night. So, now you'll be subjected to the last few minutes of the movie's credits, where Neil Diamond sings Holly Holy with the cast.
You can thank me later. Again.