I’ve always taught my children that “hate” is a very strong and serious word. Unless of course you are referring to shoes. You can definitely hate ugly shoes. Oh also you are allowed to hate that disgusting sound that guys make when they are trying to clear their sinuses via their throat and mouth.
This is my cliche’ Thanksgiving blog. Just puttin’ that out there… It’s a little sappy/drab, if you want funnier/snarkier go to my next blog “Hello, I Loathe You – Being Friendly to People You Can’t Stand” I’m sitting here waiting for my son to get off the train from New York City. This is the
I’m not sure what I think of this color yet… It’s OPI – “Suzi Take the Wheel” Yes, those are my real nails. In a dim light this color looks cool, but in really bright light it looks like it’s flourescent or something. Where the hell does OPI come up with these names? That’s some
Age is just a number… isn’t it? I have no idea what the title of this blog means, but it just popped into my head and sounded funny. I’m forty *muffled next number* years old. Sometimes emotionally, I feel 5. (you know when you get scared or lonely?). Hipness-wise I feel about oh 27. (I
I have to tell you something that drives me crazy… people that are quite self-impressed and feel that their opinions and practices usurp all others. Not to go on about this but, 2 weeks ago today my Father passed away. I saw him just before he passed, knowing he didn’t have much time left, so
Well if there hasn’t been enough damn stuff to write about this week… As I’m sitting here getting a blown out tire fixed, I wanted to do something to pass the time. Why not write? What to write about? At the age of 89, my Father passed away on Thursday. I got to see him