So it’s the day after Thanksgiving. Your body has stored 14 pounds of turkey meat it hasn’t had time to digest over by your spleen, the refrigerator is leaning 22 degrees thanks to everything stuffed in it and if you see anything resembling stuffing in the next year, you will need psychiatric counseling.
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A dump truck pulled up to my house the other day. That familiar scream from its rear warning siren burned a hole in the air as it backed into my driveway, lifted its payload bay and discarded its contents upon my yard.
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Why is it so-called “home improvement” projects always on look like little dances through the tulips. So easy. So uncomplicated. Swing your right foot this way, raise your arm, adjust your hips, smile and then spin. Weeeeee!
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Goodbye daylight savings time. We were getting along so well, then you turned your back and walked away.
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