A note about comments. I love them, because I love hearing from you. Also, I just switched over my commenting to a new system. Older post comments might not be in the correct order, which means my replies are all jacked up. But I like the new system so whatever.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Conversations With Friends

When I get old I want to be called Edna, and have blue hair. And sit on my porch swing whistling at all the cute boys who walk by. And drink Irish coffees; the good kind with the whiskey.

But you can't whistle.



  1. I'd kind of like to do that now, tbh

  2. No word of a lie: when I was 15-ish, I practiced and practiced and PRACTICED for something ridiculous like 2 weeks until I (somehow - don't ASK me how because I honestly don't know) figured out how to whistle with my fingers. I'm loud, yo. (Used to be able to do it one-handed, but lost that ability somewhere along the line.)

    P.S. I want purple hair.

  3. If you can't do it yourself you could always buy a slide-whistle.

  4. I love this. And I already have partially purple hair so I'm almost there!

  5. I'm with the psychobabble on this one - let's do this now.

  6. Let's create our own neighborhood of old ladies who whistle at the hot young boys who mow our lawns. And dye our hair fun colors, and sip hot toddys on the porch in the middle of the day. Let's do that now.


Leave a comment and I will dry hump your leg. Or take you for coffee. Your choice.

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