Build a huge mall at the end of my street. This is Los Angeles, for Chrissake, not Mississippi.
I remember the first time I undressed Malibu Barbie and made her sleep with Donny Osmond Barbie. I never owned a proper Ken doll, and although I knew Malibu Barbie would never have chosen to sleep with Donny, the supreme virginal archetype of all Mormondom, I didn’t have many options. Surprisingly, it never even occurred [...]
I’ve cleaned every surface in this apartment: every tile, every crevice, every hidden corner littered with dust bunnies the size and attitude of Texas. Alas, I’ve nothing left to clean. I always said that I’d strip this place bare once I had the free time to do so, much like I’d strip the sleeves from [...]
I’d like it if Dan Rather used the word “probe” more often.
The theme song from “Guiding Light” and I like it.
For siding with the man in this morning’s episode of Divorce Court.
Refer to my Dad, your future father-in-law, as “Mike From Tennessee.”
“When I’m sick like this, it’s like I’m PMSing. My skin just, I don’t know, freaks out.” “Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait. How would you know what it’s like to PMS? You have no idea what it’s like to endure a menstrual cycle.” “I may not know what it’s like to bleed from an orifice for [...]