I have a deep love for two ladies by the name of Barbara. The first Babs is Barbara Streisand. When I'm feeling sentimental, I'll blast "Superman" in the car and sing it to my homies through my microphone made of air. They laugh and laugh and tell me they can see why I like her.
My dad told me once that Babs wanted plastic surgery to make her nose smaller. The doctors said the surgery could alter her voice and she'd never sing the same again. She opted to keep her banana-shaped nose, and when I'm wishing I could alter my AA (double As), I think of Babs's example. Chances are, my new chest size would prevent me from doing perfect belly flops this summer, and that, mis amigas, would be a shame.
My deep love for Babs number two stems from this talk. As you can see, I chased her down in the parking lot during Women's Conference and asked for a picture. Can you believe how awesome we are together? I'm mailing her a BFF charm tonight.
P.S. Take notice of how my fingers are creeping, closer and closer. Abnormal hand placement?