I managed to consume 56 ounces of Coke/Pepsi day before yesterday.
Turner heard me call her teacher a, well, a bad name. Let's leave it at that-shall we?
I just listened to a Billy Squire song. Yes, the whole thing. On purpose. No, it wasn't The Stroke.
I have been praying for David Archuleta to fall off of the American Idol stage and land on Paula Abdul. I don't even watch that show and I am unbelievably sick of him. Even if he is from Utah, do we really want to root for someone that could turn even an AC/DC song into elevator music if he sang it?
I made notes on scrapbook projects all through Relief Society yesterday. And then left early so I didn't have to listen to the testimonies. Hell, anyone?
I made fun of a really clueless lady at work. And enjoyed it.
I don't have matching towels in my bathroom. And won't have in the near future.
My neck resembles that of a turkey so much that I can rent myself out as a decoy during hunting season.
I deliberately avoided fulfilling my church calling this week because I. Didn't. Want. To. Once again, Hell anyone?
I can just feel the crushing depression lifting. Thanks for listening. After staring at the ceiling all night I'm sure I'll have a new list and will need your compassionate shoulder to cry on tomorrow.
Cash, checks and money orders are accepted.