Co-Pilot Kristina Maria

We can go where you wanna go
We just gotta fuel it up.
Try catching us if you can
This flight ain't about to stop, no

There's no need to buckle up on this joyride
Please leave your seat back up, push it upright
Come join this irie island way of life

We going up up up 'til the stars are below
I'm gonna take this club to the city of love
Come, I'm going to go flying
Oh me need a co-pilot
Baby be my co-pilot

With every puff puff puff, boy the higher we go
Out on the dance floor, anything's possible
Come, I'm going to go flying
Oh me need a co-pilot
Baby be my co-pilot

We can be who we wanna be
One way ticket to the top.
You can be my wingman
Chillin' in the mile high club, oh oh

Baby, there's no need to buckle up on this joyride
Please leave your seat back up, push it upright
Come join this irie island way of life, woah

Because we going up up up 'til the stars are below
I'm gonna take this club to the city of love
Come, I'm going to go flying
Oh me need a co-pilot
Let me be your co-pilot

With every puff puff puff, girl the higher you go
Out on the dance floor, anything's possible
Come, I'm going to go flying
Oh me need a co-pilot
I can be your co-pilot

Ayo
Co-pilot, co-pilot, co-pilot
Ayo
Co-pilot, co-pilot, co-pilot

Cause we do it like this and we never gon' quit
Well, after the DJ and the pretty boys aboard
I'm up in the cockpit
Every night time every day, we be flying through the air
(flying through the air)
Well, after the DJ and the pretty girls
I'm up in the cockpit, going up

I'm gonna take this club to the city of love
Come, I'm going to go flying

We going up up up 'til the stars are below
I'm gonna take this club to the city of love
Come, I'm going to go flying
Oh me need a co-pilot
Baby be my co-pilot

With every puff puff puff, girl the higher you go (the higher you go)
Out on the dance floor, anything's possible (anything's possible)
Come, I'm going to go flying
Oh me need a co-pilot
Baby be my co-pilot.

I think this song is about drugs. And/or sex. Whatever - the singer's hot.

Trashy Magazines

Over the years, my wife has had subscriptions to a number of trashy magazines. Cosmo, Glamour, US Weekly... Cosmo makes me laugh...it's mostly ads, but the articles are so terrible. My favourite is stuff like "25 ways to please your man in bed". News flash Cosmo, there really aren't 25 ways to please a guy in bed. There are like 2, and everyone knows what they are...you don't have to spend $4 on a crappy magazine to know that blow jobs and sex are the only 2 things you need to know - the other 23 are invariably some form of the other 2. If they're not, then don't bother... Glamour is the same... they also have all these articles about body image, and empowerment, but all the pictures are airbrushed stick thin models that portray the impossible 'beauty' that the articles say you don't need. Make up your damn mind Cosmo. Regardless, the point of this was originally going to be about the "Who wore it best" pictures. I always get them wrong. Always. It could be like 90% on one and 10% on the other and I'd be like, damn, she looks good...what? only 10%? What the hell?

Update!!!

Ok, so what have I been doing for the past 2 years??? Well, I had a kid! Crazy eh? Crazier still is that #2 is on the way... why am I writing this all of a sudden? Bored, I guess. I was just glancing at this blog and I kind of miss it. Do people even blog anymore? Or does everyone just focus on Facebook and Twitter? (I was going to include Google +, but nobody really gives a crap about Google +). I might use Twitter more if I had more than 1 follower. Seems like a waste of time to have all my witty comments only read by one person.

My wife PVRs Oprah's final season, so I watched an episode about some kid with MS (I think) and he was all profound and mature beyond his years...he kind of made me feel like I should be doing something more with my life. He did more in 11 years than I've done in 35. Then, they tell me he died...and since I have a son, every time anyone says something about a kid dying... man, it really bothers me. Fatherhood has really turned me into a softy. I seriously can't watch any story about suffering kids...my son's face just pops in there, and I think, "What if that were him?" And then I have to change the station. I really can't stand the thought of him suffering at all. Then, on LA Ink (which has really gone down the shitter recently...OMG, Kat almost lost her kitty! Oh, no she didn't...nevermind...that's gripping tv) some dude gets a tattoo of his son because he was killed when he was 12 after getting hit by a car, and, or course, my son could get hit by a car some day!! How will I ever be able to prevent that from happening??? I probably can't! How can I possibly accept that??? I suppose I just teach him how to look after himself and trust that he'll make decisions that will prevent him from getting himself killed. Man...parenting is hard. Who would have thought that?? I thought it was all fun and games. Turns out it's emotionally draining sometimes, and stressful!

Anyway, that's enough writing for something nobody is going to read.