...so are the days of our lives.

John Cena WWE Superwrestler, my boyfriend Dave, and me.
No, I'm not sleeping. I swear.

Like sands through the hourglass...

I'm heading off to see WWE Raw tonight LIVE! Yes, I know in all the years you've been religiously reading this blog you've never heard me ONCE mention pro-wrestling. That's because it's a recently acquired taste due to the influence of D, who has been educating me on the allure of soap-operas er...I mean pro-wrestling. They're interesting! Things happen! Feuds, proposals, midgets wrestling their father...it's all part of the daily fun of soap-operas er...I mean pro-wrestling.

My point in bringing this up is that on the ticket for tonight it says 'no lasers/videocameras'.

So, I'll be leaving this at home.











It would have made for great drama, tho, when Stefano whips out the death ray to kill Marlena, who then fakes her death and then they both fall off a cliff while wrestling their fathers.

No Hyperion, this is NOT my boyfriend

New Marketing Geniuses

I think this covers all the important plot points, don't you?