Hot Stuff Tonight
Click play, let the video start and then begin reading and you will soon understand what I mean.
Don’t worry, it’s safe to play this at work – there’s nothing risque about it-I promise. You may want to watch the volume on your computer though. So seriously, if you haven’t already clicked “play,” do it now. It’s safe.
Yes, it’s Donna Summers and she’s singing “Hot Stuff.” And yes, she’s clearly rockin’ the best 80s fashion had to offer. Please try not to get too distracted by it. I know, with all the shimmying and that delightful ensemble, it’s hard to stop staring, isn’t it? Give yourself a few seconds to take it all in. Also, please notice that I embedded the karaoke version of the song in case you’d like to sing along with it.
Now, there’s a perfectly good explanation for why I’m featuring this song here. It’s because I am indeed “lookin’ for some hot stuff, baby, this evenin’,” but I’m more focused on the “hot” than the “stuff.” I’m actually really not concerned with the “stuff” at all right now, because my home has been too frigid to wear anything less than long underwear, sweatshirts (yes, plural) and wool socks to bed.
Recently, I showed you these pictures…
…to highlight the complete and total lack of heat in our house.
But all that will change today because the radiators are ready to be hooked up! The trim is painted and installed and as I write this, Rick, the world’s greatest plumber, is at our house hooking up our radiators and readying them to deliver copious amount of hotness. Hot stuff will be flowing freely from every room!
Whoo hoo! Hot, hot, hot stuff!
Sweet, sweet warmth – how I have missed you. I will no longer have to wear a snowsuit around the house, shiver in bed, beg Joey to let me warm my icy feet on his legs or run like a crazy woman from the bed to the shower.
Sir Holmes the Hottie (a.k.a space heater)…
Your services are no longer required.
Okay, now you can go ahead and just enjoy the awesomeness of this song and Ms. Summer’s homage to a decade filled with far too much spandex, leather and tulle.
P.S. My officemate, Cheri, heard me whining about how cold our house is and told me that when the furnace broke in their old duplex in the dead of winter, her thermostat read 42 degrees. In other words, I’m a big baby.
YAYYYYYYY! Clearly this means that you won’t be throwing things in the middle of the floor threatening to set them on fire. So very happy for you both!
For the record, you are NOT wimpy. The coldest I think I’ve ever been was tent-camping in Colorado. The former beau I went with and I had one of the biggest arguments of our relationship over a stadium blanket that I repeatedly put in the car. Fortunately, I won or we might have frozen to death.
On our last night of an abbreviated trip to Rocky Mountain National Park, the mercury hovered at 34 degrees. (Despite having on every piece of clothing we took on the trip, sleeping bags, blankets and even newspapers, we were regular Birdseye Frozen People.) the funny thing was, we pulled that stadium blanket back and forth all night. Whomever had possession of it, seemed to be briefly comforted.
“GGGGGGGimmmmmmmeeee the dddddddaaaammmmnnn bbbbbbbblanket,” was uttered through clenched teeth more than once.
Damn, all that reminds me just how much I HATE winter!
Congratulations!! And if you are a baby, I am a fetus because I can’t take it under 70:-)
NV – as usual, your comment made me laugh out loud. I cannot even fathom what sleeping in a tent during 34 degree weather must have been like. Sounds like the very definition of ‘freezing your ass off.’ All I can say is, thank god you had that stadium blanket. We woman never get enough credit for our foresight. 🙂
Susie – you, too, cracked me up. You’re fetus comment is too funny!
Thanks for your sympathy you two!