240 this morning!!!! Do you guys know what that means?!? Besides a shit ton of punctuation?!?!?!?
It means I’m on the cusp of saying goodbye to the 240s. For-evah and evah, amen, thank-you-little-baby-jeebus.
Maybe it’s the giddiness from this morning’s weigh-in, but I’m going to make a confession here.
I love Eddie Money’s music.
I know. I feel the shame. But when he comes on the radio, I blast that shit, sing along at the top of my voice and even do a little car-dancing. It’s the shameful truth.
Plus, my husband knows to play “Shakin'” if he wants a sure thing.
Yup. Eddie Money = nookie. *shakes head*
Not the guy. Just the music. Though he’s kinda hot in an old guy, rough around the edges way.
So I put it on my workout play list, along with some early Heart and some Motley Crue. This playlist is so MPD, I’m afraid to show it to people. How does someone go from G & R to Don Henley? By way of Timbaland, of course. I can’t help it. I really can’t. I love music, almost all of it, so of course I reach far. iTunes is my candy store. Thank goodness I don’t have a subscription radio service. I’d bankrupt us, tagging songs I hear on the radio for my iPhone. Pandora and Spotify? LOVE them. I find a lot of great new music that way.
So in the spirit of sharing and me having some company in the shame corner, who is your guiltiest musical pleasure? RATT? Helen Reddy? Debbie Gibson? I promise not to laugh, unless you put on a hat and belt out “Electric Youth.” No one can not laugh at that.