Music Monday
Trying to make sure I’ve got all the dance moves set for a wedding next month
I’ve been sick this past week (thank you germ factory that is daycare) and when I’m sick creative and weird thoughts are quick to go … as is a desire to accomplish anything.
Next week tune back in for drivel, the kind of drivel only a man-child could deliver.
Also you’ll be delighted to know I’ll update you about my sickness in the 8 month blog post about the kiddo!
Til later, fan.
I wonder if my hair is long enough that you could make a sweater out of it.
Here lies Spud. Oh ho, and what a spud.
My other epitaph is much nicer.
Death by microwaved meatloaf. Damn it was a good run though, ya’ll.
If a train leaves New Brunswick at 440mph, and another train leaves cause yo mama so fat … How bout that? Insulted by an epitpah.
I hope the Hindus have it right, and that I wasn’t an asshole.
Dig me up, I bet I’m good eating!
Go to the nearest store. Buy a Sprite. Pour it on my gravesite. All of it. When someone yells, ‘HEY! Quit that! Why? Why would you disrespect the dead?!?’ Then you look them square in the eyes and say, ‘out of Sprite.’
Beloved Father, Mother, Husband, Daydreamer, Con Artist, Craft Whiskey Brewer, Liar, and Chicken Pox Survivor. Also great with those balloons you can make into animals.
I donated my internal organs to science, and my external holes to the weirdos. Eat your heart out, necrophiliacs!
Somewhere near you is my soul, making fart noises with my mouth while mooning you. Smell that? It’s me. That last noise wasn’t from my mouth.
I should’ve eaten more foods that were shaped like famous buildings.
