Holy September!

How in the heck is it already September? Time just flies by way too fast sometimes. Whatever, we're just getting closer to my birthday. Just 316 more days! Anyways, there's an excellent chance September is my favorite month. First of all, I've already had about 18 Pumpkin Spice Lattes.

I've probably had just as many Salted Caramel Mochas, but I drink that shit way too fast to get any photographic evidence.  I'm not sorry.  Go buy your own and take a picture of it.

September is also the month that four of my favorite people in the world were born. Boyfriend creeps one year closer to the big 3-0 in a couple of weeks.

 

And no, I still haven't gotten him to cooperate and tell me what the f he wants for his birthday.  So, it's not my fault if you don't like the cat I get you, dude.

One of my oldest and best friends also has a birthday this month.

Been hanging out with that lady before we both learned how to read.  Actually, just her, because I was a pudgy little nerd who started reading when I was three.  Which may explain why she had more friends and made the cheerleading squad in middle school when I didn't.  It's ok, I'm not bitter. 

Also, at the end of the month, I will have officially been an aunt for eleven years.

 

 It still weirds me out that I can talk on the phone with them sometimes.  Why aren't you guys still in diapers and giggling at dumb shit?  We had so much more in common then.  They are pretty much way more awesome than you, and have a kick ass aunt, and they totally agree, as long as I send them their 20 bucks in the mail. 

I also get to turn into a big fat lazy bum on the weekends, making out with the DVR, since a million awesome TV shows come back on in September.

 

Those are just a few of the shows I'll admit to being obsessed with.  And hey, since we're talking about Sons of Anarchy, let's talk about Charlie Hunnam's poor choice in movies. 

I, like any living, breathing straight female/gay man would like to put Mr. Hunnam on a sandwich.

Hello there.

Color me different and literate, but I found the first third of '50 Shades of Grey' I was actually able to stomach, to be one of the dumbest things I have ever attempted to read.   I cannot believe somebody was actually able to convince a decent actor to sign on to do the film.  Come.  On.  You're better than that, Chuck.  And don't tell me it doesn't matter because we'll get to see him all naked and stuff, because I don't know if you've watched Sons, I already get to see that tush.  Unless we're getting full frontal, don't talk to me.

I'm off to eat pizza for the third time in the past 24 hours and take a nap.  Hopefully by the time I wake up, Charlie will pull out of the movie (that's what she said) and just pose for Playgirl and save himself some time.

Adios.