Solutions to Revolutions
Dear Topher,
Here are my resolutions. Thanks for the invitation.
1.) Well to be honest, on most days I lay out in the sun for 15 minutes in my bikini. I find a spot on my back lawn where nary a neighbor can see me. Not that they wouldn't want to see me, right? Right? Well, anyway, my resolution is to find a NEW bikini, mostly because my dogs are tired of looking at the same Old Navy number I have been wearing. I mean, dogs like variety too, right? Right?
2.) Wear my new braided belt from the The Gap. Yes, I am of the intelligence that the braided belt--as an institution--was abolished years ago, but leave it to the The Gap to bring it back. The The Gap is so cutting edge. Cut-ting edge!
3.) Move into a house where there are, count them, 2 bathrooms. I mean a girl needs her own lavatory. Loo. Water closet. Toilet. Official office. I mean, I don't mind sharing with Chupstar-a-rego, but I get tired of his car magazines mixing it up with my Time magazines. Before we know it, we are going to have a litter of baby Smart Car magazines. (Came up with that on my own folks!)
4.) Make Chup CW's sour cream lemon pie. And when I make it, I am going to pronounce pie like piiiiiiii. As if I was from the south and I was creatin' a piiiiiiii for the church social that evenin'. The other day, Chup-ni-ni and my dad and I watched a riveting Dateline, where they interviewed this man from Georgia, who kept saying "Liiii, after liiii, after liii, there was absolutely no truth." And in my head, four days after, was the word liiiiii. Sometimes, when it's really quiet I can still hear it buzzing around in my head.
5.) Sponsor a flap jack eating contest.
6.) Show at least ONE person my robot-doing-the-snake dance move (came up with that one on my own folks!)
7.) Ensure that my toenails are constantly painted the pearly white that they are now.
8.) If seasons permit, become pregnant.
9.) If seasons don't permit, become not-pregnant.
10.) Are you still thinking about me in a bikini? Cause stop it right now. Perv.
Here are my resolutions. Thanks for the invitation.
1.) Well to be honest, on most days I lay out in the sun for 15 minutes in my bikini. I find a spot on my back lawn where nary a neighbor can see me. Not that they wouldn't want to see me, right? Right? Well, anyway, my resolution is to find a NEW bikini, mostly because my dogs are tired of looking at the same Old Navy number I have been wearing. I mean, dogs like variety too, right? Right?
2.) Wear my new braided belt from the The Gap. Yes, I am of the intelligence that the braided belt--as an institution--was abolished years ago, but leave it to the The Gap to bring it back. The The Gap is so cutting edge. Cut-ting edge!
3.) Move into a house where there are, count them, 2 bathrooms. I mean a girl needs her own lavatory. Loo. Water closet. Toilet. Official office. I mean, I don't mind sharing with Chupstar-a-rego, but I get tired of his car magazines mixing it up with my Time magazines. Before we know it, we are going to have a litter of baby Smart Car magazines. (Came up with that on my own folks!)
4.) Make Chup CW's sour cream lemon pie. And when I make it, I am going to pronounce pie like piiiiiiii. As if I was from the south and I was creatin' a piiiiiiii for the church social that evenin'. The other day, Chup-ni-ni and my dad and I watched a riveting Dateline, where they interviewed this man from Georgia, who kept saying "Liiii, after liiii, after liii, there was absolutely no truth." And in my head, four days after, was the word liiiiii. Sometimes, when it's really quiet I can still hear it buzzing around in my head.
5.) Sponsor a flap jack eating contest.
6.) Show at least ONE person my robot-doing-the-snake dance move (came up with that one on my own folks!)
7.) Ensure that my toenails are constantly painted the pearly white that they are now.
8.) If seasons permit, become pregnant.
9.) If seasons don't permit, become not-pregnant.
10.) Are you still thinking about me in a bikini? Cause stop it right now. Perv.
