Dirty Centaurs

Last month for my birthday, aside from throwing me a wonderful surprise party, my sister and friends gave me the Dirty Dancing board game. I have yet to play the game, but in skimming the rules, we saw that the player who has seen the movie the most times goes first. Awesome.

Then, last night on the walk home, my iPod, being possessed by some unknown force, played a medley of songs featured in Dirty Dancing. I don't have the soundtrack on there, it just magically pulled the songs from their respective artists' albums for my listening pleasure. I have heard others say that their iPods have a mind of their own, but this was beyond bizzarre.

But I had no idea what bizzarre really meant, until I got home, and got an email from a coworker with a link to this, thus completing the Dirty Dancing trifecta. I have no words.

Wait, yes I do: What kind of acid trip do you need to be on to A) conceive of such an image in the first place, and then B) to actually go through with having it permanently embedded in your skin? Once on the train I saw someone with a tattoo of Captain Caveman right next to his tattoo of the Tazmanian Devil, and I thought I had seen it all. Touche Swayzaur, Touche.