My dad referred to me as a "he" the other day. I guess it's not that bad considering he once called my sister dennis. we don't even know a dennis. i always told myself i was the son chas never had. in fact, they took me out early expecting me to be a 12 pound boy. sorry to disappoint, chas. call me a he all you want.
one time i had a horrible headache and we didn't have any medicine in the house. chas said he found a first aid kit while cleaning in the basement. i asked how old it was. he said brand new. the medicine expired before i was born.
speaking of mistaken identities, i've been tempted to look up the man whose white mini-van i accidentally stole my freshman year. if anyone remembers the poor unfortunate mans name, let me know. i bet he's still wondering how his ride went from heritage lot to so-ho. sucker.
calling all hawties! if you're interested in being my date to aprox. 3,000 weddings, please apply via facebook message. on second thought, screw the application. the only requirement is that you do not consider a dress shirt tucked into basketball shorts "fancy clothes". i am an equal opportunity employer.
people constantly tell me how short i am. im an easy going gal, so i don't offend when you call me a munchkin, short fry or midget. but, please! it is never ok to tell someone they are shorter than danny divito. pure heartbreak. the unforgivable sin. (for the record, i am two inches taller and much more attractive. he is, however, damn good in its always sunny. to that, i will never compare.)
my parents bought a karaoke machine at a rummage sale. life is good when you find your 62 year old father singing about two counts behind to bad,bad leroy brown. he still has a long way to go, but i am very excited for when he is ready to preform lady gaga's bad romance. tickets will be sold. popcorn will be popped. biggest show to hit the valley in years. look out.
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