ipods are like those magic 8-ball thingers.

as i was hauling my dog and pony show home from tumbling class the other day, lady madonna shuffled up from my ipod. i love it when that happens--when the cosmos align and my ipod delivers pure, unadulterated satisfaction through the majesty of song. and in that moment i knew paul mccartney saw into my soul. where is lady madonna's husband? he must be a management consultant. i would love to exchange email addresses with lady madonna and talk about weaning and meal planning and budgeting and potty training and catching poop with your bare hands. lady madonna should start a blog. i would totally subscribe to it.

and now indie is a biped. and a straw drinker.


k. said...

Blogger ate my comment that I left the other day. Boo.

This post makes me giggle (especially because I'm fairly certain you have 48,342 songs on your iPhod). And remember yet again that none of us have any hope of being as cool as you. And that you really do need to move back to NYC, but I should be quiet about that for a while.

Hannah Anderson PJ's on Miss Indiana?

Scott & Lindsay said...

could she be any cuter? i don't think so.

old me.