I popped into my local supermarket a short while ago to grab a few essentials (not chocolate). If I didn't already know that I was living in a high homo quotient neighbourhood (praise be), I think the soundtrack to my shopping would have given me a few clues. I kid you not, 100% truthiness!
While I was choosing carrots Melissa Manchester was giving me the inside scoop that I should hear how she talks about me. (Well the only thing worse is not being talked about, right?)
(Oh and if you don't think this is a 'gay' song, then you're probably just 20 years too young.)
Somewhere around frozen foods Elton was blowing, or something. (I mean, nice song and all but I'm sort of over Elton since he started upping the crazy. When he turns, he turns. He scares me.)
Do you know hard it is to pay for you groceries when Miss Cher ends up being the soundtrack to your check-out experience? Dancing and entering one's PIN are not compatible.
I was kind of sad to leave, because I'm sure Frankie Goes To Hollywood could have been next...