We Be Clubbin’

Holy good God, my feet are about to fall off in Honolulu.

We went from downtown’s First Friday to club hopping in Waikiki.

I remember when I was 18 and thought my clubbing schedule was like a job. Mele and I had our schedules down. I think the only day we weren’t out was…monday? God, I can’t even remember.

Fast forward a decade and know what I think? I’ve no friggin idea how we did it. I really don’t.

I don’t remember my feet about to fall off in my shoes. I have a theory about that. Maybe the crappier the shoemaker, the more comfortable? Manolo might want to take some notes from Two Lips or whatever the hell it was I used to wear in the days when I was broke ass as a student.

Another thing I realized? The hotter you are (I’m talking core body temperature, not by what your friends rate you in your clubbing gear), the less comfortable your shoes are.

I’ve determined it can be mathematically proven…just don’t ask me how since I stopped taking math after my last year in calculus. That shit was hard.

Just like stomping all around Honolulu in Miss Sixty stilettoes.

I know relief is spelled R-O-L-A-I-D-S for those hooked on phonics but know how it’s spelled for me?

S-I-T-T-I-N-G. D-O-W-N.

Oooh yes. And what. 😀

Oh thank God the waitress is back with my drink. Grey Goose, take the pain away.

Oh hey now…they’re playing my song. Amazing how a song that tells you to shake it like salt shaker can make you feel instantly better. Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®


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