I was SO MAD I gave myself a rage headache and that made me very sleepy so I feel asleep but then I woke up SO MAD again.
What to do?
Ride the pony until it dies. Stay indoors. Hydrate!
Any beating this?
Is there a rainbow at the end of the pony ride? A light at the end of the pony tunnel? A sliver lining to this clip-clopping cloud?
HA, HA, HA!
So the apocalypse didn’t happen?
It seems, then, that I’ve now got a bit more time to continue on with my hobby: drafting my epitaph.
Keep on Truckin’
It keeps me busy. And it’s F-R-E-E!
Here, so far, are the contenders:
- “Enough Already.”
- “This is Absolutely Not Me at My Best.”
- “Excuse Me. For Living.”
- “Poopsicle = Poo Popsicle.”
- NO ROBERT FROST
- “I’m NOT a Feminist. But…”
- “Wait. Wait, wait, wait!”
- “Grateful to Have Lived in the Golden Age of Injectable Soft-Tissue Fillers.”
- “It’s Not You. It’s Me.”
- “Tiger Balm Cures (almost) Everything.”
- “I’m Hungry.”
- “Chemistry was the worst!! Have a nice summer!”
- “Kony 2012.”
- “And I Never Got to Ride That Pony.”
- “Wish You Were Here.”
The final draft, though!
That will be the tricky bit.
Filed under Hobbies, Words