Cookie Dough Craving Pot Roast is the romantic newspaper ad that my wife used to snag me.

Koi are here!  Sounds like something out of the Apocrypha.

Get Boxed.  This can mean so many things. I think it pertains to coming terms with one’s own death by spending some time in a coffin. I prefer satin sheets for the death romp slip and slide.

I put too much raspberry lemonade flavored crystal light in my glass and I am too lazy to go and dilute it at the water cooler.

If I made a cyborg robot, it would less than the sum of its parts.  What am I supposed to do with this screw? It’s the morality screw.  That could be a pun…think about it…I don’t write this stuff purely for your enjoyment, I want to claim your brain for Spain!  Show out to Kids in the Hall!

I was like the silent year book Nazi UN. I expected everyone to conform to my shout out in the back of the book but I wasn’t going to actually police anyone about it. I just glared at people when I read their stupid scripts and muttered fascist words under my breath. And if they asked me what I said, I would answer: “No, I got Advanced Algebra fifth period.”

My high school freshman year during the winter I wore a big puffy nylon winter jacket with a T-Shirt underneath.  I carried all my books in this giant blue gym bag that was rapidly deteriorating and had no organization what so ever. I never used my locker and I remember being constantly cold and sweaty.  I miss high school so much, not really because it was so much more work than real adult life.  I wonder if I should have skipped it or at least slacked off more.

My chocolate and peanut butter is pretzels and coffee.