shawnw

What would you do if you were minding your own business at the bus station and the following broke out:

Well… what would you do?

Want proof?

I’m sleeping with a toy so someone else can’t play with it.

Want the full story? Be at Maryland Community Church, tonight, 7 p.m. for A Vintage Christmas. It’s going to be a great evening of stories, songs and laughter.

I’ve decided it’ll be good to confess to you guys.

Why? Well, maybe because I’m not made fun of enough in real life.

Or maybe, my confessions (sometimes serious, sometimes not so much) will encourage you to get things off your chest, too.

So, here we go. My first official confession is…

I love to dance but am downright awful at it.

That’s right. I’ll wait for you to finish laughing before I proceed.

I really enjoy getting my groove on (and when I DO dance, I give it my all) but darn it if I’m not the worst dancer on the planet. Word is I blinded Jimmy Trudoe at my senior prom with some of my moves. And I mean blinded in a bad way.

I wish I were better at it. I mean, I can keep a beat, and I can throw down the whitey dance like no one else. But if I have to do anything that requires coordinating more than one body part at a time in some sort of rhythmic movement, you can count me out.

Watching me dance is like putting Roseanne Barr’s Star Spangled Banner on infinite repeat.

If aliens invaded Earth, and the fate of humanity was resting on my ability to bust a move, all I’m sayin’ is, hunker down. The ride’s about to get very bumpy.

I just can’t do it.

Ok. Your turn.

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