I know I’m no longer a kid, but I still hold out in the childlike hope that some day money will fall out of the sky. At least enough money to buy a Three Musketeers bar and some wax lips from 7-Eleven.
I hate how celebrities always die in 3 like Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and Jim Morrison and sometimes literally on the same day like Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and the Bopper and now Oscar the Grinch, Big Bird and Caroll Spinney.
Whelp, I'm not even out the door yet and I could already tell it's going to be another one of those days I'm not going to change the world and make it a better place for all mankind to live with my Facebook post.
Dear Facebook, I'm fully capable of finding my phone friends so if you can do me a favor and stop suggesting them to me like my mother did when I was 5 years old that would be great. Thanks!
If you're starting off the New Year single looking for a significant other, forgot dating websites, forget clubs and bars and go mingle in the freezer section or down the cat food isle.
I went to confession last week. Things in my life have apparently gotten way out of hand, and I mean WAY out. For my penance, the priest gave me 3 Hail Marys, 3 Our Fathers and a Crucifixion.
I'm so used to ending phone calls with family and friends by saying "I love you", that I accidentally said it to the female agent at Spectrum. Anyway, she gave me 6 months of free internet and HBO.