Evil whispers in my left ear…
She: "You know, you could just show up and look cute." Me: "Not run the race? Really?" She: "Yeah, you won't be hot and sweaty...there'll be cute Elvis impersonators and whatall and we can go to the bar afterwards. Think about it." She B: "She's right. If you don't run,
Lion Queen
Me: "I heard the sequel is going to be Lion Queen." Lil She: "Nuh-uh. Simba is a boy." Me: "So? The next one's about Nala. She's much more interesting. Yep, I can't wait to see Lion Queen." Lil She: "But Lion Queen doesn't sound right." Me: "That's because you hear
Afflecked
Me: "If I have to hear one more time how Ben Affleck is sexy, I think I'll backhand someone." She: "No kidding, he's about as sexy as day-old carp." Me: "I was going to say cardboard, but then I realized that was unfair to cardboard." She: "And it's fair to
I won! I won! I won!
I can't decide which is more amusing...the fact that I won a medal for the race I ran a few weekends ago (I spent more time goading small children than actually running), or the letter that tells me about it (see below). Doesn't matter. I feel, like, a, winner. Dear,
Pre-Diamond
Me: "Carbon is just another word for diamonds, you know." She: "Hey, we're carbon." Me: "True." She: "Does that mean we're pre-diamonds?" Me: "I guess so. We would have to go through a diamondization process -- applying pressure and so forth. I image it would be like trying to fit
Inspiration
She: "I dislike being the inspiring one all the time." Me: "How so?" She: "It happens when you're in a wheelchair. People feel the need to come up to you and talk about how you're the wind beneath their wings. It's hard. I don't have a good answer for that."
