If you haven’t laughed today, read this.
A good guffaw is guaranteed.
My Mike
The other day Mike promised me that he’d be my sugar daddy.
Then he took that back, for fear that he won’t make the millions the title implies.
So now he’s promised to be my Splenda daddy … or, as he says, Splendaddy.
I’m not exactly sure what that means, but I think I’ll keep him either way.
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A record ends
Well, my record for not-ironing broke today, and it wasn’t even for a very good reason: I had iron a patch onto my jeans because I was too lazy to sew them.
Damn … It must have been at least six years.
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Juicing
Of late, I’ve taken to wearing the same outfit two days in a row.
That way I waste less of my creative juices on dressing myself, allowing more creative juices to be used on writing.
Alas, those creative juices have become highly valuable, yet limited resources.
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Sweet dreams
I really need to go to bed.
1. Because it’s 11:45 and I’m freaking tired.
2. Because I have Gloria Estefan stuck in my head, and it’s driving me crazy!
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Procrastination method of the day
In an effort to dodge my professional project this morning, I went ahead and had a little honey tasting contest.
The organic variety beat the generic store brand by a long shot.
(If you have any better procrastination ideas, I’d love to hear them. Obviously, I’m running out of options.)