i am my mother's daughter

in sixth grade, my class put on a play about nursery rhymes. in the bible belt, that's how you make children on the cusp of puberty feel incredibly guilty about every naughty thought they have. i was mother hubbard - complete with stuffed animal hound. hot, right? well, suck it. i nailed it. i stole the damn show. but that's not the point. after the play, my mother comes up to me and says, "ooooh, why don't you like michael? he's really cuuuute." first of all, gross, right? he was 12; 13 at best. secondly, he was NOT cute. he was tall and gangly and some parts were bigger than they should be -- his NOSE, people. jeez.

flash forward nearly 20 years. guess what? michael is HOT. i mean like movie star hot. damn you, mothers, for always being right.

i'm reminded of this because henry rollins popped in my head today. old hank is a feast on the eyes with a voice that sounds like he's munched on construction-grade gravel for breakfast. sexy. i recalled being into rollins band in college when hank was trying his best not to be hot. i was all badass wearing cut-offs and striped tights and an L7 t-shirt...all borrowed from my roommate who was about thirty shades more badass than i. i came home one weekend listening to rollins band on tape in my car. my mom was with me. when "liar" came on, she said, "oooooh! i love this song! he's SOOooooOOO cute!" gah! first of all, he's not "cute", mother! he's a bad mf-er. not CUTE.

yeah so today i saw this.

damn her for being right all the time.

i love you, mommy.