i stumble down the harbor to the tavern on the square
and heard a raucous ruckus as it rang
from some foul inebriates
the men i used to call my mates
were lost in song and this is what they sang—they sang:

"hey, hi, yo, ho
o'er the atlantic we go
drinking 'til we all get sick
and comin' up with limericks
but we never quite remember how they end"

My mom and I had been discussing the death of Whitney Houston the other day. While we were both fairly busy at the time (I was preparing for a party, she was… doing something), we both tried to get as much information on the situation as possible.

And then, she sent me this text.

A busy life my mom leads.