So, I know—you’re getting ready for the Academy Awards. The snarkathon is in full swing here. Guiliana, aka Skeletor, don’t know how we feel about the dress. We just know, doll, if you get any thinner your head might actually fall off. This from Cancer Girl, thrilled beyond belief to have lost twelve pounds.
Amazeballs things continue to come my way. But for Sunday pleasure, a little song seems in order. It comes from The Goddess, a friend everyone would die to call their own. Chicks in the circle know the girl sings. Every occasion calls for song. And, evidently, my cancer does not escape her composer’s pen. She says it came from the post, “C Is for Cookie.” She sends a text.
“Damn you, now I’m singing, C Is For Cookie. I think I’ll come up with some badass cancer lyrics for you.”
Me: “We do need a song—a theme song. And a dance.”
Goddess: “Oh, a dance for sure.”
Goddess, a few hours later: “Oh, I have lyrics. Check your email and sing in your Cookie Monster voice.” She assumes I have a Cookie Monster voice.
Goddess, a couple of hours later: “It’s catchy.”
You know she’s right. Remember sing it in your best Cookie Monster voice. Dance moves to follow dolls.
C is for Cancer. That’s not so good for me
C is for Cancer. I don’t like what I see
C is for Cancer. I got to kick it free
Oh—kick it, kick it, kick it, kick it free.
Day made, non? You’re welcome.