I'm pretty sure the only thing I could do that would really make my dad with me would be to knock someone up. I just don't have the resources and he's not interested in raising anymore kids. He tells me he loves my nieces but he's kind of over the whole baby thing
I dunno. I have the deft touch with the pan and the spatula. I could very well be depriving the world of the cuisine of the future.
You'll wake up on the couch in a pool of drool with the smoke alarm going off and a fire in the kitchen as you tried to make grilled-cheese sandwiches with the plastic still on the cheese. Trust me, order in.
Everyone hates Caillou, except my daughter who thinks it's hilarious that I hate Caillou and tries to turn it on when I'm not paying attention. She's four.
I'd say I'm pretty easily tricked right now. Not post-in-the-boobie-thread easy though, but I'm not done drinking yet.
Best party I ever went to... walked into a dark room, turned the lights on, and there was a chick on all fours on the bed, passed out, with a carrot shoved up her ass so you could just see the green leafy top hanging out. It's all been down hill since then.
How do you know she hadn't been in there so long that somebody wasn't just growing a carrot in her ass?
Shortly after I revealed the omen I couldn't figure out about seeing midgets everywhere I see this article interviewing one about what it's like to live in NYC. The omen has returned. I'm scared.
Damn it. We're watching some stupid movie instead of watching Outlander. I should always be the keeper of the remote. Last night we watched Jurassic World, clearly I have better taste than whatever the fuck we're watching now.
Ok, another one from the VI 'Deep Cuts From Great Albums' on this Saturday night. This week Dream Theater, Images and Words: I am a big Prog Rock nerd, so click at your peril.