Okaaaay. Well, I was going to try and post a song for you, but Blogger doesn't want to tell me how.
Please Blogger? It's important. Because I am just too tired to go sifting through web sites looking for clues. I was at the gym for an hour and a half (AN HOUR AND A HALF. PROPS TO MYSELF.) and now I am sleepy and droopy and I am making pizza but I should really be in bed. I don't know what the pizza has to do with this but it feels really important to me right now and I'm all wanting to eat it before it's even cooked if you can believe that. I know you can't, because EWW, how gross, eating raw pizza after working out for five years or something close. Revolting. I can't even imagine it right now it's so icky and frozen-sounding. But cooked pizza? I would eat that. And then I you know what I would do? I would pack up the rest for lunch. Spelt crust, goat cheese, and homemade pesto. With veggie round ground. You want to eat the pizza now, don't you Blogger? You want to cook it up in your little cyber-oven and savour it over a few CSI reruns and a Shakira music video. I know you do. I can read your little internet mind.
Sorry, what? Oh yes.
Please Blogger. If you would be so kind. Just a song of myself and a bunch of my friends on New Year's Eve. There are noisemakers and a banjo. Please?