OK EVERBODY STOP PANICKING. I got dis.
Baby aminals! YAYYY!
MMM 318: 13 days
And then of course I get to unpack it all, which is going to suck all of the balls.
Leetle tiny shorts.
In Which Sean Holds Himself Up to Ridicule
You know, I used to absolutely hate poetry. Hated reading it, hated writing it, just generally hated everything about it. I was a prose guy, and I thought there was something silly and frivolous about scribbling thoughts into stanzas and trying to get them to scan and rhyme and all that crap.
Then, something changed. Maybe it was getting sober, though I have no idea why that would have any bearing on this. But over the past few years, I’ve found that there are certain instances where I can best put my thoughts in order by taking up quill and scroll and just churning out some of the old doggerel.
Before we go any further, let’s just get this out of the way here and now:
Okay, now that we’ve dispensed with that (yeah), allow me if you will to emote all over you below:
MMM 310: Shovelling in the dark
That’s what you do when you get 6″ of snow but have solo custody of a very small child the next day and you know you have to be able to drive to the store at some point. Did that for just over an hour tonight (I’m writing Sunday night because I have to get up with the toddler in the morning for day 3). Tired. Time to put the pics in the post and then kill zombies for a while.
Her booty is well labelled.
What change looks like
The Official Sports Team of The Hostages
Honorary Hostage David Thorne – Epic E-mail Exchange
Get TITS2 & The H2 Stuff
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