Don’t let the title fool you.  I actually like hearing about people’s Bucket Lists.  I couldn’t make my own, however, because I’m the type who’d put something really easy on the list so I could check it off.  An example might be:

1.) Try something new on Taco Bell’s menu.

Ooo, Katie, you rebellious creature, you.  You strayed from the Cheesy Gordita Crunch and now can claim to be quite the bat out of hell.  Check that off your list and make sure you give yourself a pat on the back.

I won’t lie.  My “Household To-Do Lists” are set up in much the same fashion.  But often times involve me adding things I’ve already done to the list. 

Listen, I don’t judge your organization systems, so don’t come around these parts and judge my anal OCD butt for liking to feel accomplished through the use of copious amounts of checkmarks all over a to-do list. 

I saw a guy who did a cooler version of a bucket list on his blog, so if you’re reading this Other Guy, thanks for the inspiration.  Anyway, I think a better list for me might be a list called “The Totally Radical List of Things I’ll Never Do, But Maaaan, They’d Be Sweeeet.”

80’s verbage: it’s here to stay.

So don’t get your neon-colored leggings in a twist.  I won’t make you wait any longer for this list. 

The Totally Radical List of Things I’ll Never Do, But Maaaan, They’d Be Sweeet

1.)  Find The Elusive Oscar Meyer Weiner Mobile

I don’t know much about this hot-dog on the move.  I’m not sure if it visits cities across the nation or if each city has its own, but one day I’d like to track down this hot-diggity-dog on wheels.  And when I do, I will need the support of my friends and family for my initial meeting because there will be lots of screaming in the highest octave, also know as tween-girl pitch, and maybe even some fainting going on.  This is my Elvis, people.  The largest hotdog in the world.  Don’t ruin it for me.

2.)  Be A Bond Girl

Because my life could use a few more high speed boat chases while wearing sexy swimsuits.  I mean, no big deal.

3.) Live In A Justin Bieber-Free World

If you are Justin Bieber, this is not a threat.  If you aren’t Justin Bieber?  You dodged a bullet in the DNA pool.  What is up with this kid?  The hair?  All the “baby, baby…oooh…baby” songs.  Do you have a baby, Justin Bieber?  Has a girl broken your heart when you were all of 13?  That must have been a rough summer when Melissa told Cindy, who then told Rachel that Sarah didn’t like you anymore.  I bet instead of crying you decided to write your lovesickness into a song.  One that you would sing in a pitch only dogs could hear.  Please leave the airwaves.  And be sure to pass a message on to Luda from me, since it sounds like you two are the best of friends.  And not the kind of best friends that are forced for publicity because they’re on the same label.  Tell him he lost a lot of street cred in my book the day that your single featuring him came out.

P.S. – I secretly think you have a weird mole or something under those bangs.  Put the rumors to rest and wear a headband already.

4.) Stop At Every Food Booth At The County Fair

We live in a world of cinnamon-roasted almonds.  And shaved Hawaiian ice with a limitless variety of flavors.  And corndogs on sticks and deep-fried, well, everything.  Powder sugar covered funnel cakes and cream puffs.  This is a beautiful world, my friends.  A world I think Louie Armstrong was singing about.  Only with a little more cheese curd filling. 

There are so many food booths at the county fair.  Each with their own tantalizing smells and attention-grabbing neon signs.  I’m a sucker for advertisement so if your sign blinks or does anything else a little more exciting than the others, you better believe I’ll all of a sudden think I need some type of fried meat on a stick.  Like.  Right.  This.  Instant.  Ohmygod, nom nom nom.  My gluttonous goal is to one day visit each of these food stands and pay respect to the art form that is Fair Food.  See how I capitalized that?  It’s now a proper noun.  It’s earned its spot right next to president’s names and city capitals. 

Mmmmm...smells like five pounds on my thighs...

5.) Get To The Bottom Of Every Vague Song Ever Played

What wouldn’t you do for love, Meatloaf?  You said you’d do anything, but “that.”  If you’d do “anything,” I’m sensing “that” must be pretty bad.  Like land you in jail bad.  Or something you don’t talk about in polite company bad.  Good thing I’m not polite company.  So go ahead and spill it already.  Also, Carly Simon, if I hear one more interview where you play coy regarding who’s so vain, I’m going to spit.  Vague songs are like Facebook statuses when the person puts “I cannot believe that just happened to me” and then ignores the 26 responses from people going “what? what happened? hello? call me if you need anything, sweetie!”  That person needs to read the etiquette rules of Facebook.  Don’t leave us hanging.  And apparently America’s recording artists need to get a grip on that rule as well.  Ok, off my soapbox and fin.

Ok, beautiful, lovely, attractive readers.  Let’s hear your outrageous desire.  One that goes a little above and beyond the Bucket List.  I won’t laugh, I promise (anyone who tells you she would produce blood-curdling screams at the sight of a giant hotdog is to be trusted when she tells you she won’t laugh).

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