One day, I’d very much like to drive Route 66.
OK anything BOMB. Stop calling things bombs. It’s dumb. The only acceptable use of bomb is as an adjective. You’re the bomb, baby! Or, you know, when referring to an actual explosive device.
“I think about Aaron Eckhart naked for a minute before I respond. … I’ve never actually seen him naked, but I’ve seen him naked enough to be able to fill in the blanks.”
It’s hard to have a discussion when everyone’s response to your post is “I totally agree with you, that is such a good point.” Come on.
I thought that said “When I noticed how articulated she was …”
On point. On fleek. On model. All of them. All of them must go.
What?! No one told me we had liberty AND freedom!!!
Mitch Pileggi’s eyebrows look weird.
Non-fiction, Non-fiction, Science Fiction Double Feature
Yo. Yo. Ma. Gabba Gabba, MTV Raps.
Why does my knuckle hurt?
tengo que haga un esfuerzo excesivo mi cerebro
What a strange man.
Wait. Maybe this is the universe trying to warn me about something.
I’m not looking forward to this lunch.
It’s too bad you can’t still get Sears Homes.
I kind of miss the house my dad built. I would move back there. Looks like they sold off some acreage though. So maybe not.
I’m just giving you a look right now. You know the one.
I seriously might have to unfriend you. You seem to grow more obnoxious by the minute.
I would not mind going to the Club Soda reunion. But I will not wear my Club Soda t shirt. That would be too weird.
“Well, sure an individual has to take responsibility for making the choice to use drugs, but the drug dealer holds some culpability as well.”
“The drug dealer is just a means of distribution. The drug dealer is not responsible for the individual’s choice to use his product any more than Meijer is responsible for my decision to drink Dr. Pepper 10.”
OK. Lunch was alright. I hate riddles though.
I might cry real human tears over Cascade.
I still think my route resembles Indiana.
Bill Knapp’s chocolate cake is my faaaaavorite.
I’m totally embarrassed to say that I did not even realize this was Andrew from Buffy. But his Instagram is hilarious.
I need some kind of pressure band for my skull.
I know what I think about it.
kust ion fages
I did all of the dishes. All of them.
This is just not cold enough. I think tea would be better I guess.
That is just not right.
I kind of wish the damn family room was Stormageddon proof so that the TV watching was in the family room instead of my bedroom because then my bedroom would not be full of stinky children all the time throwing my pillows on the floor and shoving the top sheet down to the foot of the bed and then I could go in my bedroom and indulge in an episode of Supernatural or, you know, some other brainy type mom show in peace. And stuff.
I do love the occasional run on sentence. Sometimes it’s appropriate.
I’m standing at the island in the kitchen fighting to keep my eyes open at 7:37 p.m.
My seven key is sticky. Always has been.
I’m reasonably certain I should not be wearing this shirt.
Oh I just remembered. I’ll be in Chicago next week.
I ain’t no now you’re messin’ with a Nazareth Misfits mashup. You better think about it, baby.
You just came out here to head butt me didn’t you? Demon child.
Um. I’m really struggling to understand how you can categorize Marx as a hero.
The goal is to work through ALL of the stash yarn before buying more. I’m confident that I will fail fail fail. I do have to make one exception – there’s a baby blanket that needs to be made. But I am going to try. I even cleaned a whole bunch of stuff that I admitted I would never ever use and donated it to Miss W’s partnership school. But ideally, I’d like to work through what’s there. And in the future only buy yarn for specific patterns. No matter how pretty and soft and squishy and yummy it might be. I can be yarn smart! I can! I swear! Also yarn won in knit-alongs totally doesn’t count.
Well. That was a monumental waste of time.