The perfect In My Head Saturday morning song:
🎶 Marconi plays the mamba, listen to the radio, don’t you remember. We built this city. We built this city on rock and roll. We built this city. We built this city on rock and roll 🎶
It’s been one of those days. Can Saturdays be lazy days? I feel like Sunday is the only rest day – isn’t that when God rested?
🎶 You’re still the one after all these years. Still the one I want to talk to in bed. Still the one who turns my head. We’re still having fun and you’re still the one. 🎶
Did I ever tell you about my love affair with Billy Idol? I was so in love with him and his spiky hair and that thing he did with his lip. I loved every single one of his songs and I had his poster on my bedroom wall. Memories. 🎶 In the midnight hour, she cried more more more 🎶
Did I ever tell you too about when my school friends and I walked into a sex shop right around the corner of Yonge and Dundas? Yonge Street was different back then. Our Catholic school was in Chinatown, so it was a short walk.
In the summer after school, we always went to Eatons Center before going home, this time we decided to walk up Yonge Street. Looking back, we were too young to be in that store, but no one stopped us. I remember being in awe; the store was huge, two levels maybe.
We looked around and around, then I saw these intriguing things in all different colors and sizes taking up part of a wall. Butt plug?!?!?! My friend and I shared a puzzled glance, then she whispered, “What would you need a butt plug for?” I took it upon myself to solve the mystery. I walked to the counter with a package in hand, my friends on my heels. We waited for the tattoed and pierced cashier to wrap up with a customer, then I asked him, “What’s a butt plug for?”
I don’t remember anything he said. Once the surprise wore off, we started giggling as we headed back to the wall. If Google was around back then, I could have looked it up and saved us the embarrassment.
This memory takes me back to that other moment when I was probably ten or eleven. I had Prince’s Purple Rain album on replay. One particular day, my dad was sitting in the living room, reading maybe, when Darling Nikki came on, I was singing my heart out. When the song was ended, I turned the music down and asked, “Dad! What’s masturbating?”
There are things in this world you don’t want a stranger, or your dad, explaining to you.
🎶 Might as well face it you’re addicted to love. 🎶 Is that good or bad? Maybe it’s neither here nor there.
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