I’ll tell you why I’m getting fat. It’s because I’m bored as sh*t. For real. When is the last time I ran up a slide? I used to love that. The trick was to run super fast so gravity didn’t notice until you reached the top accompanied by the sweet sound of all the adults… Continue reading If I have a problem, yo, I’ll solve it.
I’m kind of sad about how we the people handled the Tom Petty situation. We insisted he was dead until he agreed. We’re better than that, aren’t we? Then there’s Vegas which I refuse to even discuss. I don’t have a first hand account, I don’t know any of the survivors, the injured, or the… Continue reading I’m not in the mood to be funny today
There is an order. A series of steps. That are in order. Without order it’s chaos and then what are you even doing with your life Sharon? I cannot clean the kitchen unless I start with the dishes. I cannot clean my room unless I start with making my bed. I cannot skip around on… Continue reading Order of Operations and other bad excuses
It is simple to count the amount of F&%$’s this child gives about anything and everything. As long as you can count to none. The Fin. Not just because her middle name is Finley but also because she’s it. The end. The last of the many many children, the final loop in the family chain.… Continue reading Fin
I don’t hate Mondays. Most people hate Mondays. I’m not most people. For most their hate is easily traced to the frustration of the untimely death of their weekend. I don’t have a weekend. I’m unemployed. So you know, everyday is basically Saturday. Therefor, in my world, Monday doesn’t signify the end of anything. Quite… Continue reading Monday or Never
It is upon us. Like other sacred holidays it travels across the calendar, difficult to predict. It might be chosen based on a moon cycle. I like to believe there’s a secret room of administrators possibly in a cave. An elderly gent is standing at the head of a long table. He speaks and the… Continue reading The Real New Years Day
I’m pretty sure this is war. Definitely a conflict. Struggle is sounding very appropriate. Tiff? No. Spat? Not so much. Altercation? That’s not quite right either. These give the impression that a resolution is possible. Not the case my friend. I’m locked in for the long-term. This is war. It’s because of your demanding schedule and my hypothalamus.… Continue reading It’s not me, it’s you. And also me. We’re not compatible.