Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Bet You Look Good On The Dance Floor.

I like to dance.

Dancing at work is an enjoyable thing to do, mainly because I don't care what people think, and seeing a chubby white guy rockin' out to the radio is an enlightening experience for most.

I don't think I'm the greatest dancer, (unless we're talking the horizontal mambo) but I can hold my own. With no formal training, I still look better than at least half the other white dudes out there. But I rarely get a chance to display my expertise. Obviously the Lord has seen to it that my gifts go unappreciated.

Shitty, that.


1 comment:

  1. I cannot dance. I have some sense of rhythm, meek as it is, but the deal is I have no moves. I took the swing and I took the salsa. I now know what to do but can't think on my feet. I draw a blank, and I think it's related to a n impovrished childhood devoid of real sports.

    So if I were ever to say that I hate you, it'd only be through sheer envy -- I can't compete with you suave dancing fools.

    And I wonder if WV's 'qoqbinge' is telling me something I don't know...