If he cracks his knuckles again, I may have to thump him in the head with a box of post-its.
One day the endless list of to do’s I’ve scribbled on scraps of cd receipts piled on the vanity and poking out from the refrigerator door will include the self-improvement projects I have so lovingly learned at the exfoliated feet of Martha Stewart: SHELL MIRROR FRAMES: Arrange shells on the frame in even rows, using [...]
Ben Folds: Rockin’ The Suburbs
Suggest that I store a pillow in my car for afternoon naps. You’re a thinker!
Force me to drink water when I want that damn Diet Coke.