Do you know just the thing to make PittGirl forget she’s sick?
To make her jump out of bed, jump back on the bed, jump up and down and up and down and scream and squee and run a few blocks around the neighborhood in her jammies not caring that snot is pouring from her nose (sexy), not caring that her hair looks like something so bad that Medusa would be all, “OMG! Hideous!”, or that she’s infecting the world with Texas Death that she caught from that carrier monkey Tina Fey?
Bryan Adams, for some strange reason, added a one-man acoustic show to the Burgh at the Byham in August. And I’ve already got my tickets.
I’m not only going to see Bryan Adams, I’m going to smell him, I’m going to wink at him, I’m going to possibly throw an article of just-removed undergarments at him, and I’m going to even more possibly rush the stage in an attempt to feel his Canadian sweat (bail me out, yo!).
Smelling the sweat of Bryan Adams.
Suddenly, I feel better already.
(h/t David, Magnus and Pav)