Ending the year’s countdown the day before my birthday with a special dedication to someone who hates being the center of attention and who hates being called out for anything wonderful she’s ever done, so I will refrain from revealing her identity and I won’t entertain any guesses from the masses, so don’t ask. Let’s just say this person has been a consistent rock under my shaky feet. Probably one of the strongest women I have ever had the honor to know, she never lets her guard down just as often as she never lets you down. But about the song: Guns N’ Roses’ Sweet Child O’ Mine is from the glittery era of excess and that’s exactly what this kick ass song delivers: excessive rock and excessive fun. Plus, as an added gift, the lyrics are actually kind of sweet. When it was brought to my attention, almost two decades later, that the person I’ve referenced above also loved this song, it became obvious that this would be my anthem for her. This, or Ice Ice Baby. Or Gettin’ Jiggy Wit’ It. She won’t read this post because she avoids Facebook like any good millennial would, but that’s ok. However, in case I am mistaken, and she does take a gander, first she will laugh at my use of the word “gander” and then she will hear this: THANK YOU for being my constant savior, my beef, the person who makes me stop and laugh at myself every time I need to. Thank you for every bit of it, ya dumb twat. I love you!
From the historical writing archive. Original date: December 20, 2019. Recovered from local source material; editorial review is still in progress.