Meh. I'm not feeling great this past couple of weeks, and I can't come up with much good to say. I've been trying to be really positive lately, and I think I've used it all up for the time being.
Three weeks from right now I will be on a plane to Fort Lauderdale on my first leg of travel to Costa Rica. Here's to that.
About Me
- buffy
- My deal consists of Jim Beam and hookers. I also like cheese. I live in a small town in Alabama with my son, my husband, our alien-like dog Rocky, sometimes my two step-daughters, and a ghost named Marty who makes us peanut butter sandwiches. It's irritating because Marty always leaves knives covered in peanut butter in the kitchen sink, and who do you think has to clean that up? PHIL, IS WHO.
2 comments:
You are obviously in need of intense PCT.
Close your eyes.
Take a deep breath.
Imagine a pork chop. Now imagine that there is a round hole in its center. Let your mind insert a pork sausage into the hole. Now you have a pork chop with a sausage mast. Haul in the hashbrown anchor and unfurl the delicious sails of bacon as they fill with a light ocean breeze. The pork chop boat takes to the waves of gravy and rocks gently back and forth back and forth. Floating off into the sunset you pass a biscuit island and wave to the native butter pats who live there.
Open your eyes and notice how you have had a wave of calm flow through your body.
Enjoy the rest of your beautiful day.
some jerk.
developer of Pork Chop Therapy (PCT)
I like the PCT. I think I've heard it before... I'm feeling better about all the work I have to do today.
At least it's hump day and the weekend will arrive soon.
--kat
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