Knock, knock!
Who's there?
Sylvia!
Sylvia?
Sylvia, your daughter!
What do you want?
Didn't you ask me to come home and clean out the closet in my old bedroom?
Oh, yeah, come in. But make it quick. Did the neighbors notice you? Where did you park? You still driving that thing? You're not staying for dinner, are you?
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Cans
- Children (10)
- Desk Job (14)
- Philosophic Phluff (7)
- Writerly Ways (22)
Jars
-
►
2009
(7)
- ► September 2009 (1)
- ► April 2009 (1)
-
►
2008
(19)
- ► December 2008 (1)
- ► November 2008 (1)
- ► October 2008 (2)
- ► September 2008 (1)
- ► August 2008 (2)
- ► April 2008 (4)
- ► March 2008 (1)
- ► February 2008 (4)
-
▼
2007
(35)
- ► November 2007 (3)
- ► October 2007 (2)
- ► September 2007 (2)
- ▼ August 2007 (6)
- ► April 2007 (1)
- ► March 2007 (2)
- ► February 2007 (8)
- ► January 2007 (10)
-
►
2006
(39)
- ► December 2006 (9)
- ► November 2006 (7)
- ► September 2006 (4)
- ► August 2006 (2)
- ► April 2006 (1)
- ► March 2006 (1)
- ► February 2006 (2)
-
►
2005
(68)
- ► December 2005 (1)
- ► November 2005 (3)
- ► October 2005 (6)
- ► September 2005 (1)
- ► August 2005 (4)
- ► April 2005 (15)
- ► March 2005 (5)
- ► February 2005 (5)
- ► January 2005 (6)
-
►
2004
(66)
- ► December 2004 (5)
- ► November 2004 (18)
- ► October 2004 (17)
- ► September 2004 (13)
- ► August 2004 (13)
Tupperware
Who is responsible for all this organized thinking?
2 comments:
When are you going to get married, anyway? You're not getting any younger. What are you waiting for - Mr. Perfect?
Awww, shit, Aunt Hag has found my blog.
Post a Comment