Your days of admiring tractors are over. You own a tractor now. And even more, you use it. You have to keep it in working shape and reasonably clean. The suffered roadside tractor is a fantasy of yours no more. It has gone the way of all your dreams, stuck somewhere up the chimney. You’re a dreamless farmer now. Plodding, sewing, studying the sun.
Later I’ll reveal my favorite brand new fruit-based dessert recipes of 2012. (Spoiler altert: Strawberry Shortcake Kebabs!)
Here’s Johnny Depp asleep in his trailer between shots. Yeah, no that’s actually him sleeping. I know, it’s amazing. I’ll give it one more minute and then we’ll move on. Next up is a quick and really captivating retrospective on Alan Alda’s eyewear over the years. Alan Alda’s eyewear, everyone.
Oh to be pampered. This life of luxury is a curse. And a carousel. Also, at times, a cruise — cruises being cursed carousels themselves, after all. What’s that? Yes, thank you Armand, that will be all. I’m content. Here with my cotton balls.
Why is reading books some sort of club now?
Addendum: Read alone, dear sirs. Read for no one. Read in the dark. Read like men.
Look at this Greek mythology protag. What a rube. Better get some more rocks guy! Hahah! Ah… Ah… Where the hell’s the donut guy, this rehab group sucks.
Brace yourself: you just walked into ladies night with a bottle of Jackfruit flavored vodka.
Pretty soon we’re gonna stop using mason jars at restaurants. But what will replace them? Tall and thin lady-like numbers that show our societal finesse? Native American baskets that hardly leak at all? Milk cartons? You wonder as you slurp banana royale out of a waffle cone.