My dog barfed last night.
Then re-ate it.
Such efficiency.
Then re-ate it.
Such efficiency.
Of course, before she re-ate it,
my elderly father managed to roll right through it with his rolling walker.
The whole experience had me laughing so hard I couldn't see
because of the tears in my eyes.
my elderly father managed to roll right through it with his rolling walker.
The whole experience had me laughing so hard I couldn't see
because of the tears in my eyes.
Sometimes you have to laugh...
so you don't cry...
although I seemed to have managed both.
so you don't cry...
although I seemed to have managed both.
I was a fugitive from the law for two months.
My inspection sticker expired.
And every time I passed a cop, I felt guilty.
And bad.
And I tried to avoid them.
One time I drove through a school zone,
and a cop helping out there yelled out at me as I passed.
I know what it feels like to be a fugitive.
My seven-year-old wrote a song last night.
He and his friends are forming a band...
a band that plans to practice at my house.
Here's part of the song he wrote:
I like pie.
I don't know why.
It makes me cry
at the end of July
and what's why.
I don't know why.
I like pie.
I'm thinking I need to become a high paid artist.
Did you know you could decide such a thing and it just happens?
That's my plan.
I want to make Car Art.
A huge car sculpture people will come from all over the world to see.
If you could be an artist at the snap of my fingers,
what kind of art would you like to create?
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