That’s what they say, anyway. Much like another blogger I know (cough cough), I’m tired of being less laughy and too seriousy.
I guess I’m lucky that I have a mob of relatively insane superhuman laugh machines that I built completely out of bubblegum and dog poo. I like to call them my kids, but, please, don’t get too close. They’re stinkers. Get it?
Ok, so, a man walks into a bar… annnnnd, he hits on me. Even after I explain that I have four kids. Haha.
I’m experiencing snow PTSD from Snowmageddon. Send Triscuits.