Suzie recently remarked that I would be good at living a rich life (such as illustrated by this recent Raffles Boston experience) as I’d appreciate all the beauty and opulence of such an existence. I was like, well DUH. Until such time that Andy’s big lottery win comes in, however, I’ll have to find the willpower to live far outside the realm of that opulence. I’ve done it for fifty years, and I can do it for another fifty. Still, let’s manifest that windfall in the likely event that I simply tire out. Happens to the best of us. In the meantime, a fun Sabrina Carpenter bop to ponder:
I like a few of the cuts from Ms. Carpenter’s latest album, and this one reads on so many levels it approaches the brilliance of Madonna’s double-entendre-laced early days.
My man on his willpower is something I don’t understand
He fell in love with self-restraint, and now it’s getting out of hand
He used to be literally obsessed with me
I’m suddenly the least sought-after girl in the land
Oh, my man on his willpower is something I don’t under-, something I don’t understand
He’s busy, he’s working, he doesn’t have time for me
My slutty pajamas not tempting him in the least
What in the fucked-up romantic, dark comedy is this nightmare lately?
Yeah, okay, okay, he’s on his big journey to find
A little zest of life, a new sense of purpose, but why?
I’m right here (right here), I’m waving (hello)
The joke can be over now, you’re so silly, baby
My man on his willpower is something I don’t understand
He fell in love with self-restraint, and now it’s getting out of hand
He used to be literally obsessed with me
I’m suddenly the least sought-after girl in the land
Oh, my man on his willpower is something I don’t under-, something I don’t understand
