A solicitor knocked on my door the other day trying to sell me internet service. At the end of his speech, he asked if I had any questions. I pointed to my "No Soliciting" sign and asked where I might put it that would be more visible. Oh snap!
My neighbor must have had the munchies. I heard him groan, "Girl, I need some macaroni salad reeeeeal bad...
Brooke spent 15 minutes this morning trying to put on the strange and bizarre new pants she found on the floor. Then she proudly stood up to show me that she'd managed to wrap my bra around her legs and waist.
Me: Honey, bad news, there's
poop on the bed.
Him: What's the good news?
Me: It's all on your side."
As I waited at the railroad crossing today, I saw a boxcar fly by bearing graffiti which said, "Trust no one." And then, "The truth is out there."
Heard "Don't Fear the Reaper" on the radio this morning. Instead of changing the station, I turned it up and thought, "This needs more cowbell.""
Dear Mr. Delicious Fried Zucchini: While I appreciate you making your way secretly into my bag of french fries, I do NOT appreciate the fact that you were, in fact, a jalapeno pepper masquerading as a delicious fried zucchini. Infidel!
The version of "If You Could Hie To Kolob" that I'm listening to sounds a little like "Enter Sandman." Makes me want to listen to more church music.
I deleted an e-mail from Brett's account from a company called "Bongo Flashers." Was I wrong to think it was porn? Turns out they are a DJ lighting company. Oops.
I had a dream last night that I was singing "Called To Serve" at the MTC. But instead of singing it, I was clucking the tune like a chicken. Bok bok!
My baby just put the end of a USB cable that was connected to the computer in her mouth. The computer said, "Your USB device is malfunctioning."
The phrase "Girl, I need some macaroni salad reeeeel bad" has actually become an inside joke at our house.