my pants would burst into flames if i said your generosity stunned me. two nights ago i dreamt i called the police on myself for airbrushing my passport photo. lying isn’t a shot i swig down handily. so what i’m trying to say is, yes, you ARE too old for...
i anticipated to awake in a rage. fists in the air, ready to scrap with puppies, the elderly, the angels, and whomever else wanted to butter my hurting heart. that bastard cancer has devoured another loved one. and, AGAIN, last week i received the infuriating news...
i struggle at many things. pedicures for one. i suck at pedicures. even with navy seal precision, and tongue-out-of-my-mouth concentration, my toes still look as if i painted them blindfolded. and drunk. and no matter how careful i am when i pay someone else to...
in the words of neil diamond, “hello my friend, hello.” i’ve had a technological imposed vacation away from y’all where i filled my time with toffee consumption-that’s with a {T} and i’m talking 12oz boxes at a sitting, and booty...
yesterday morning, in a second position turn out, amid a room full of lithe, breathy, lululemon’d beauties pulsing, squeezing, scooping, and tucking their limbs into lengthened, toned, swan-like knockouts; i noticed the already icy cold room get even chillier,...
ok, before i begin this post, dax shepard if you’re reading this, can you please vacate my dreams? it’s getting annoying. it’s not like we’re romantically involved, in either an R.E.M. capacity or even some deep-recessed, twisted,...
