If I had a donkey I’d name him Odie. Then he’d be Donkey Odie.
If I had an orangutan I’d name him Jack. Then he’d be Orangutan Jack.
If I could coin a new word, it would be “hysteriamentary”. It would be used to describe documentary films that use hysteria to make their point. It’s really an inconvenient truth to make this up in the 11th hour, but someone has to.
I’m probably the only person I know that was glad to see Brittney Spears trying to make a decent comeback on How I Met Your Mother this week.
When the shuttle lands in Florida, the double sonic boom scares me every time. Last night it shook the blinds.
If it weren’t for some Orlando rain last Saturday, I’d be fully trained as a Disney PhotoPass Photographer. We’ll fix that this Saturday morning.
I’m tired of Facebook, but I still think it’s funny that there are 25 people in a group I created called “People named Robert Williams“.
Twitter isn’t as effective for me as it is for others. I have a feeling that half of you don’t know what I mean by that.
Easter Sunday rocks. Every time.
I’m #2 going into the Sweet 16 in the Sleestack Madness bracket. I’m realizing I’d be #1, not if I picked better, but if I invited one less person.
How heathen have I become? I couldn’t think of a proper synonym for “bad ass” to describe Samuel Jackson.
Miss Guided is indeed not a bad show, but the name is perfect for a young, unmarried guidance counselor sitcom.
I cough whenever I eat a brown, spotted, or over-ripe banana. Yes, I have no logical reason for it nor can I find anything on the internets about it. But I swear it’s true.
You know what is a great rush? Getting Final Jeopardy right when all three contestants don’t. It’s happened to me twice.
I told a friend on Skype the other day that I’ll always shoot straight with him because I just don’t have time to mess around and lie.
I still can’t think of a proper way to describe Samuel Jackson.