BRF

Hi, Blog!
I just got back from molesting some cantaloupes at Trader Joes.  Honestly, we should have gotten a room.

So one of my closest friends moved on me. Now, now.  You know who you are. Her job and life and so on and so forth has her doing the alley cat on different ground.  Which leaves me with an open position, if you know anyone who is interested, Bloggy.

When you are young, making friends is easy.  You simply showcase your best pair of Rainbow Brite stickers and the deal is done. Hand in hand, off you go to terrorize the neighborhood, pigtails and puppy dogs.

In my twenties, I had the pizzazz to make certain plucklings my friends, and that was that.  Oh yes you know who you are.

 Now that I am "accumulating years", it is not so easy.  First, we need to talk about Bitchy Resting Face.

Bitchy Resting Face kind of explains itself. This is the man or woman who always looks so pissed off at the world that you are afraid to ask them to move their cart a little to the right so you can get by.  Not sure why some of us have it, but there has to be something about where the lines and wrinkles decide to settle.  Pop open  a can of Sprite, lean back on your lounger, here we are. BRF.  We need to move past Bitchy Resting Face.


People with BRF I am sure can still be my friend. Obvs. Since I love everyone, now they are back in the pool of contestants. Yay! Now that we have gotten past that obstacle, decisions need to be made. I have an open spot for good friend. I will take suggestions, of course. Gimme.