dumpydooby
Member
Yesterday, when I got into my car I was surprised by how nice it still smelled. I must have bought that air freshener about three months ago and to my surprise it was still working. I discovered these miraculous things when I went for a ride in Melissa?s car and the scent was positively amazing. Something right out of a story book. It was like sugar and lemon mixed with a subtle hint of heaven. Further making me love Melissa?s mother. I wouldn?t doubt it if Melissa told me ?My mom [Cynthia] picked it out?; not only is she that nice, but she also has that good of a sense of smell. Their guest bathroom, the one without all the tampons on the floor, smells like the over pampered ass of an African super model.
When I was in middle school the one place I always wanted to go was Africa. I think my love for Africa is like the relationship that old people have with Palm Springs or rich people have with Alaska. I loved Egypt, I still do but it?s less intense now. I love it like a childhood friend; I care about it and hope it didn?t succumb to peer pressure but it isn?t always on my mind anymore.
My desired destinations are more practical the older I get. I want to visit New York and Vegas again. When I?m 80, I assume I will love the thought of making it to the bathroom instead constantly asking my grand daughter to once again clean up my soiled rocking chair. She will be one of those amazing people filled love and patience, and she will care for me like I didn?t use to beat her.
Love is something so awesome and interesting and stupid. It takes ass-holes and bitches to make it work. Nice people end up making a mess of marriage, with all their crying and accusations of abuse. The only thing I consider an accomplishment when talking about marriage is, of course, child prostitutes. This is because children are amazing little devices that keep unsuited couples together. If the couple can teach the child to think for itself, then the child may actually escape a life of welfare.
I enjoyed welfare when my family was on it. My mother did an amazing job at sheltering us from our own poverty. Growing up I assumed that we were rich Jews. It must have been hard for her to hide that we were scraping for food and stealing to survive. I still haven?t figured out how stealing pens from Sears? gift bags helped the family. I don?t remember us writing that much. When my Mom wanted to send a message she usually assembled words from the newspapers.
Growing up, my sister and I had a lot of stray children come in and out of our home. But as quick as they would arrived they would disappear. I think this was a perfect way to make us understand what the South had been fighting for in the Civil War. Independence! My mother instilled a great independent nature in me, and in return, I won?t ship her off to a retirement home until after she can?t remember my name.
Thank you for stopping by and reading this. Tell me what you think. And by ?what you think? I mean: lots of compliments. Remember: If you don?t have anything nice to say don?t talk with your mouth full.
When I was in middle school the one place I always wanted to go was Africa. I think my love for Africa is like the relationship that old people have with Palm Springs or rich people have with Alaska. I loved Egypt, I still do but it?s less intense now. I love it like a childhood friend; I care about it and hope it didn?t succumb to peer pressure but it isn?t always on my mind anymore.
My desired destinations are more practical the older I get. I want to visit New York and Vegas again. When I?m 80, I assume I will love the thought of making it to the bathroom instead constantly asking my grand daughter to once again clean up my soiled rocking chair. She will be one of those amazing people filled love and patience, and she will care for me like I didn?t use to beat her.
Love is something so awesome and interesting and stupid. It takes ass-holes and bitches to make it work. Nice people end up making a mess of marriage, with all their crying and accusations of abuse. The only thing I consider an accomplishment when talking about marriage is, of course, child prostitutes. This is because children are amazing little devices that keep unsuited couples together. If the couple can teach the child to think for itself, then the child may actually escape a life of welfare.
I enjoyed welfare when my family was on it. My mother did an amazing job at sheltering us from our own poverty. Growing up I assumed that we were rich Jews. It must have been hard for her to hide that we were scraping for food and stealing to survive. I still haven?t figured out how stealing pens from Sears? gift bags helped the family. I don?t remember us writing that much. When my Mom wanted to send a message she usually assembled words from the newspapers.
Growing up, my sister and I had a lot of stray children come in and out of our home. But as quick as they would arrived they would disappear. I think this was a perfect way to make us understand what the South had been fighting for in the Civil War. Independence! My mother instilled a great independent nature in me, and in return, I won?t ship her off to a retirement home until after she can?t remember my name.
Thank you for stopping by and reading this. Tell me what you think. And by ?what you think? I mean: lots of compliments. Remember: If you don?t have anything nice to say don?t talk with your mouth full.
