Current Mood: Bloated :(
Greetings, loyal ones! Hope my directions weren't too confusing and that you got here safely. Now, with that being said, please don't touch or move anything.
I am new to this world of "blogging", but I am hopeful that this will allow me to express myself freely and without judgment. And although it is late, there is one thing I have to get off of my chest...something that has haunted me for many years now. If any of you own the book POST SECRET by Frank Warren, I ask that you open it now and turn to page 46. If you don't own the book, a small background. Basically this man (Frank Warren) asked people to send him post cards bearing their darkest secrets. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of people wrote down their secrets and sent them to him. he then took some of those postcards and put them into the book, sharing them with the world. On page 46, at the top of the page, there is a photograph of a bowl of soup, and above it is a caption that reads, "When I'm mad at my husband...I put boogers in his soup." (pause) Here is what I have to say about that:
1) You're f*cking gross.
2) Little do you know that your neighbors saw you hovering over that boiling pot of New England clam chowder, picking your nose gold, and flicking it in. And little do you know that they told your husband. And little do you know that tonight, he is planning to beat you with his belt. THE BUCKLE END. And little do you know that your neighbors call you "Slim Pickins" behind your back. And little do you know, that when you die and go to heaven, God is going to fart in your mouth and make you hold it in for one whole minute because he and I (and probably everyone else who read your "secret") know that your a disgusting, filthy little pig!
Have a great week everybody!