You can’t kill a Honda, unless you’re an 18-Wheeler.
tweet this
Mornings make me nervous. I wish that they didn’t. But they do. I wake up with such issue with the Day, every single day. It doesn’t matter if I’ve had three hours of sleep or a hundred. And I don’t settle down until after 2:00, usually…on bad days 4:00. I think it’s because I’ve lost my mornings. That's what it feels like. I mean, I wake up knowing I have a drive ahead of me just to get to my office, a drive I’m beginning to hate with the heated passion of a thousand burning suns, and it’s caused me to reevaluate what I do...
I'm addicted to crack (machines).
There's an epidemic in Starkville. I know because I'm very attuned to these things. Like any hypochondriac. It's crack (machines). I speak from experience. (And I'm pretty sure it's not an epidemic of One, but if it is, that's ok, because the army is an Army of One, and I know for a fact that there's more than one person in the army. I'm stepping forward to speak today because I'm no longer afraid to confess that I'm addicted. Perhaps, I can speak as One for us All. Perhaps, my story will help others). I could hardly write that last sentence without giggling...at least,...
The monsters in my mouth.
I'm no prude, but violence in any form shocks me. (I'm rather hoping that's a universal statement). But, and here's where we may differ, my response to it is to laugh. Maybe it's a nervous habit, maybe I think it's a deflection on my part to make it less real. I don't know why I do it, but I laugh. And loudly. See, what you might not know about me is that I am the world's most foremost expert at inappropriate laughter. It just seems easier to laugh at everything, for me. I get tired of crying. (Though, I've done my share of that,...
Advertise With Us
