Background: We’re empty nesters. We now have to entertain our own selves yet we don’t like the same tv shows or basically any of the same things. We do, however, drink a little. We don’t like to drive if we’ve been drinking, even in small amounts. Ok, we don’t really know the meaning of small doses. We like being alive too much to drink and drive. We’re too cheep to pay for a DUI . Take your pick. The point is we have a lot of time at home, just the two of us and our liquor cabinet, and our 3 dogs plus one psycho cat. Soooo… we listen to a lot of Pandora cranked up while enjoying a few coctails in the evenings. We’ve added a competitive level to our listening by trying to name that artist before the one can.
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A song comes on. I’m feeling the knowledge. I can get this one. The wheels are turning in my head. The mumbling of my random thoughts are putting it together. My fingers are tapping each other like I’ve just figured out the plot to take over the world. I’ve got it and I announced the artist. This is what followed:
Him: How you got there I’ll never know. (knowing something crazy just went down in my brain)
Me: Brantley Gilbert – Little House On The Prairie – Laura Ingles – Melissa Gilbert – Gilbert – Brantley Gilbert – duh!
