Maybe you haven't heard, but um, my Mom enjoys Bon Jovi a little bit. Of course, by a "little bit" I mean Bon Jovi is oxygen and she is a set of lungs. That's how badly she needs them. And not so much them as him. Mr. Bon, himself.
You may remember I've blogged about this before.
My Mom. Bon Jovi. I'm going to have to sit down.
So now I'm pretty sure Mom owes my sister her first-born child or something, which is fortunate, because my sister is the first-born. Problem solved.
But the most unfortunate part of the whole arrangement, other than my not being there (scoff), is that Mom lost her voice. She can't utter a word. Call her, you'll see. So how the Hell is she going to scream to Bon Jovi to take off his clothes?
It's an unsolved mystery. Hopefully there's pictures.