(Since I’ve posted so much depressing stuff lately, here’s a lighter post.)
I have a confession to make:
I sing while I’m driving.
(OK… it’s good to have that off my chest.)
Montana is a BIG state so even driving to go grocery shopping is a 25-30 minute drive.Ć? As pretty as the state is, I’m in the northern part and it’s pretty empty up here so I have to have something to do while I drive.Ć? I know that my parents would kill me if I talked on my cell phone while driving (not to mention I get really crappy coverage until I get to Shelby), I sing along with my CD player while I drive or I’ll sing praise songs if I’m by myself and I don’t have any tapes or CD’s.Ć? (Our antenna is busted.)
So now you know… I’m one of those singing weirdoes.
So do I. Loudly.
Heck, I not only sing along with the radio/cd player, I sing along with the music at the bowling alley. Yes, you read that right. š Where I bowl, they have a jukebox. If the songs are good and I know them, I’ll sing along. Usually to the point that my teammates look at me kinda funny. š
Me too!
Me too! I also have a penchant for driving around town with the windows rolled down and the CBC blaring. It’s my attempt to counteract the mating call of the whiteboy rap bass.