I Can’t Think Of a Title! Stop Pressuring Me!
Display captioned, “Fun! Festive! Fabulous!” The products so designated? Cotton swabs and adult diapers.
It is St Patrick’s Day. I am only 25% Irish, but I am 100% drunk. (Disclaimer: Ancestry claims have not been confirmed by any genetic-testing kit.)
…on St Joe (slogan: 50’s Furniture, 70’s Colors, 80’s Music–Boomer Medley!)…Adult trying to explain to a child how Snoopy can also be Joe Cool. Kind of like explaining how Jesus can be both fully God and fully man.
THIS SPACE UNINTENTIONALLY LEFT BLANK BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW HOW TO MAKE THE CURSOR GO UP.
Spellcheck keeps telling me McDonald’s is not a word. I don’t know how to deal with this.
Nick will soon be the proud sire of his first female cub. (You can tell because the egg is smaller, since there doesn’t need to be room for the tiny wings.) I have the feeling that she will someday say, “Well, I grew up with 2 older brothers…” as an explanation for whatever kind of person she turns out to be.
I will most likely be live-blogging the doing of my taxes, since I anticipate they will be the most difficult of my lifetime, unless I someday become famous and have to reconcile my newfound riches with my Social Security. HELP ME, PLEASE!
…And now it turns out that an 18-year-old pervert has been taking pictures of females using the restroom at the Walgreen’s on St Joe. I have the feeling that, if I saw a cell phone appear under the wall of the stall, I would lose my temper and grab it.