Have I told you lately that your hair reminds me of a sweet cinnamon bun? I must have been starving, or high, because right now your hair just looks like hair.
Do you ever wish you could just while away the days drifting down a lazy river with one hand dangling in the water and one foot bitten off by a 20 foot crocodile because this is Florida and someone didn’t take any time to read the 10 warning signs by the side of “Crocodile River”?
Have you ever laughed so hard that your pancreas and liver get up and shake hands, and your gall bladder does the Nicaraguan two-step? If you answered yes, then you are humoring me, and stop it.
How many times have you skipped across a puddle on the sidewalk, giggling as you land on the other side just as your umbrella blows open unexpectedly, only to realize that you are a police officer, and that wasn’t an umbrella?
If a stitch in time saves nine, how many does a stitch 20 minutes early save? What if the stitch is 15 minutes late because Grandma wouldn’t get out of the slow lane? Does that mean you owe like 4 or 5?
If I have six of one, and half a dozen of another, could you just ignore the fact that I’m talking about various types of genital warts?
Will the leaders of the world ever learn their lesson and realize that all wars can end with one phrase: “Whatchoo talkin’ ‘bout Willis?”
If I asked you an honest question about a donkey, a garden rake, a pair of nipple clamps, and a poster of New Kids on the Block, would you reserve your judgment of me until you see how damn sexy this all turns out to be?
Hello world!
7 years ago
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