Sometimes it’s fun to take a stroll down memory lane. It is especially fun when said lane was in the 80s.
Now, I am not responsible for my hair, nor outfit as I was but a wee one. However, I wish I could say the same for my father. What can I say? The man rocked the jean cut offs with a muscle tank.
Also, note the muscles and pinky ring. Screams bad ass. The feathered hair? Not so much.
The best part is we have the same dissatisfied look on our faces. That must be genetic.
I miss that park. It is a pretty solid park with a huge aluminum (or steel?) slide that gets hotter than the surface of the sun, some killer swings and those things where you sit down and someone runs along side trying to create a g-force.
Little known fact about me: I fucking love swings more than anything.
I just wanna sswwwiinngggg! For serious. I could do it all day.