There are some pretty nice looking meals available at the place across from Carl’s Jr. Too bad I will never, ever eat there.
If you need us, the cats and I will be in the living room having a tuna party.
What’s more disturbing: that my friend hasn’t seen The Wizard of Oz - or - that I danced unironically to “My Humps”?
Full-screen windows make me claustrophobic.
I challenge anyone to beat my 18 episodes of Gilmore Girls in a single weekend.
My right eyebrow smells like cat food.
If I knew the Mandarin for “There’s no room for all of your shit,” I might understand what the cleaning lady’s saying.
Coke tastes better to me since I read _The Road_.
(A moment of concern wherein I think my decongestant is threating to make my phlegm more vicious.)
I’ll leave you to puzzle out why I thought of the simile “as forever changed as an underwire that went through the dryer” this morning.