The Night Listener was a disappointment
I can’t believe he put on Texas Chainsaw Massacre after saying he didn’t like slasher flicks.
I don’t think hot sausage is really that hot. Taste bud victory!
The first time I wore my nice yellow shirt was the time it probably got stained permanently with what looks like blue ink. Oh goodie. And since I’m wearing it at work, it’s like a big “Kick Me!” sign on my back. So… ink me!
What would I give for a 1280×1024 monitor as bright as his?
Working out with only women is more freeing than I first expected.
I’ve never been called “really strong” before, but apparently I have quite the way with those machines at Curves.
I’m not picky about my bottled water.
I only needed one hour-long traffic jam in the morning to convince me that living close to work is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made in Illinois.
Morning shows on the radio suck. Period.
Good huggers should get plaques of recognition from the appreciative general public. They definitely deserve it.
I never knew cousin rivalry could be worse than sibling rivalry. Now I know!
Getting less than two hours of sleep on a work night brings me back to when I was a wee lass in high school and staying up all night was a breeze. This was more like a stiff breeze downwind of a harsh-smelling foulness the likes of which no nose has survived. Who wants to cheer for nap time?