A while back I met hubby at Starbucks after he went on a long, relaxing motorcycle ride, leaving me home to cook, clean, and clear 40 acres with a paring knife. Ok, fine, I was napping, shut up.
I was cruising through twitter and saw the news that Bret Michaels, front-man for the '80's group Poison, was on death's door and not expected to live. I would just like to say that I have no idea how the guy signs his name to things. My name is long enough, but I can't imagine trying to fit: Bret Michaels front man for the '80's group Poison on everything.
Anyhoo, I found an article that explains why BMFMFT80GP was on death's door.
Me: That lead singer for Poison is on death's door.
Vroomy Man: I thought he was dead already.
Me: no, not unless by dead already you meant like 15 minutes ago, which may be the case because this news item is an hour old.
Vroomy Man: no, like years ago
Me: you must have been thinking about his career
Vroomy Man: yeah probably.
Me: he had a subarachnoid hemorrhage
Vroomy Man: Well, those spider bites can be dangerous
Me: um, no... he's bleeding at the base of the brain
Vroomy Man: well, I'd be more worried that the spider laid eggs there