I like my hotdogs burnt. Not like to a crisp on every single spot but burnt. Cooked hard.
Don’t ever give me a microphone at a wedding or any other type of ceremony involving alcohol.
Easter brunch was the least expected hangover cure ever.
My neighbors haven’t came outside. I wonder why. I cook great hotdogs.
I’m starting to think that I’m the only person alive who participates and celebrates Red Speedo Monday. And that’s just sad.
My dog made several attempts at humping me last night. While it was quite flattering, I had to let him down easy. Sorry dude, I don’t swing that way.
I tried to heart something on facebook the other day. Weird.
Apparently, twelve BBQ pork steaks is too much food for four people. Six would’ve been fine but no, my mom bought twelve. Twelve fucking pork steaks for four people.
My brother goes back to Seattle tonight. So we’re having an early dinner before he leaves. We’re eating leftover pork steaks.
Red Speedo Monday will have to take a small break during said dinner.
I’ve never cleaned someone’s clock before and I’m not sure if I wanna try.
There were zombies after me in my dream last night. It was a little scary at first. Then, I saw Christain Slater as a zombie wearing ice skates. Yes, he was on ice and I guess he forgot how to skate because he was stuck in one spot. He was trying to come after me, his feet were moving but he wasn’t making any forward progress.
I have ridiculously weird dreams.
Posted on Monday, 9 April
Tagged as: Red Speedo Monday zombies random thoughts