When your 6yo gets the mic and steals the show.
Author. My lanyard says so.
Big day. The TO mayor’s ass came to check out my book.
These seats are good.
Spotted in the wild and thanks to the alphabet just three steps from some guy named Ernest.
The mail came.
When it snows, we don’t complain. We stick out our goddamned tongues!
1. She doesn’t need lyrics. 2. There aren’t lyrics on that sheet. 3. She can’t read.
Bought the cat a snack for my 11th anniversary.
He tells me he’s trying to build a robot that thinks exactly like him.
11 years later, I still dip her for every kiss.