Will sometime lead to the most bizarre of conversations, usually me describing some obscure piece of pop-culture from my past to the lad, when he obviously does not care. I say this is my right and rank this as high as my parents dragging me to every god-forsaken swap meet on the weekends so that mom could try to talk some guy into selling her something he was asking $.50 for for $.15. Hell? Oh, you betcha.
Anyway, I digress. If you were at casa de db this weekend, there is a pretty good chance you would have heard me utter the following:
eenie meenie minee mo catch a tiger by the toe if he hollers make him pay $50 every day my-mother-says-you-are-the-very-best-one so-you-are-not-it
For this I receive the official ‘dude, you’re a dork’ with eye roll. Although I’m pretty sure this is exactly how he is going to pick teams for kick ball from now on.
Did I mention I spent Friday night at the Laundramat?
me: d00d, I’m at the laundrymat j: what are you doing at the laundramat? me: doing laundry, duh
Via text message. But, you know what I always say…ask a stupid question…
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