I've
been told so many times by so many people that it's just water under the bridge
and I always answer, with a voice overcome with emotion, that to me it is so
much more, it is also my home.
Whenever I get really angry, I threaten others and swear if they don't leave me alone I will clean their clock which usually ends with me sitting at home alone icing my knees and polishing minute hands.
People are always announcing that the ball is in my court and I keep saying that it isn't a ball, it's an apple and it isn't a court, it's a tree and then they take out their rackets.
My number is up? What? My number is actually, finally up? What does that mean? Don't tell me to calm down or relax! I am panicking over here right now and am just not in the right frame of mind to think of what I want or need from that deli over there. How can you think of cold cuts at a time like this? My number is up and you are hungry? You are dead to me.
I am going to knock your socks off! That's right! Be prepared to be wowed and de-socked! Here comes something so amazing and thrilling that your feet will be bare in moments. That's right, what comes next is so bedazzling that your feet will be in one place and your socks elsewhere with your sock drawer being only one possible destination. Are you ready? Okay, if you could just remove your shoes and pull your socks partially off before I begin that would be very helpful.
"The grass is always greener" my roommate always said filled with jealousy. My roommate was a poetic cordless lawnmower.
"A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down" sings a lady on the television. Whenever it plays, I always mumble along as I lay on the floor covered with ants after yet another accidental sugar-induced coma. Always taking things too far when sweeteners and ladies in song are involved.
Yes, I know. The writing is on the wall. I put it there. I sensed the end of our relationship was coming, so I went to the store and bought a set of new permanent markers, spent hours working on my penmanship and my cursive writing and then came up with the most passive aggressive, hitting-too-close-to-home and well-written good-bye material I could come up with considering my full time schedule and the pain that I feel inside. Your point?
I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you! But your voice is like fingernails on a chalkboard to me although, to be honest, after spending the better part of last week locked in a small, windowless room being forced against my will to scrape my own fingernails on a chalkboard, I am just not the person to ask if your voice sounds too high-pitched and screechy these days.
My boss is so cruel and uncaring and I can't believe he accidentally cut me with his antique and supposedly dull machete that he brought work to show off to us all. And then to make it worse, he not only refused to use the first aid skills we were taught last week and were mandated to use, but instead he took my vials of rare and expensive salts that were the last gift my unnecessarily risk-taking and law-breaking salt-collector of a grandfather gave to me on his deathbed and literally poured them into the cut on my arm! Who does that?
I wanted to love her and treat her like a fragile porcelain doll, but despite all of the gifts I bought her and the flowers I sent and the breakfasts I served her in bed, I just couldn't help adding insult to injury which she loved up to a point, as she had quite the tolerance and appreciation for sarcasm and wit and biting humour, until I broke her. Literally.
I'm not sure what you are trying to say! Yes, I have a positive outlook on life, and yes, I choose to see the best in every person and situation, and yes, I do believe that everything will turn out in the end and there is no reason to stress or fret, but I am honestly starting to get a little annoyed with your smirking at and obvious disdain for my new rose-coloured glasses that I happen to think are quite fashionable.
She told me, before she left, that I read her like a book complete with accidental coffee stains, folding over her corners, leaving her open upside down on the counter overnight and ignoring her for weeks at a time amassing huge overdue fees from the local library. Plus, I never returned her calls.
Wow! I am just loving life right now! I've got so much youthful enthusiasm and energy and I just want to go out in the world and make a difference. And although I am bouncing off the walls and raring to go, I am second guessing actually walking around with a spring in my step - horrible blisters and massively uncomfortable.
I've got the world on a string, but that isn't saying much as I made the mistake of literally filling my house with sticky string and now I have everything, and I mean everything, attached to me via string: a plastic globe, my cat, a bag of cinnamon - everything! Nothing worth singing about.
It's where? Are you kidding? For real? You actually took the proof and mixed it into the pudding? But why? That is seriously messed up and weird, dude! I get hiding the proof and all, as those proof-seekers will stop at nothing to attain the truth, but why ruin a perfectly good batch of pudding! As I've told you before, tapioca doesn't grow on trees, it is a root that is grown mostly in Africa and South America!
Nothing is quite like taking candy from a baby aside from prying sweet bonbons from the sweaty, grimy and cute little hands of toddlers reducing them to nothing but wailing little humanoids who are far cries from the "oohs" and the "aahs" and the "I want to hold and kiss the baby" and the "you're so cute, do you want some candy?" babies you were a few minutes ago! Who is the cutest and has the candy now? Damn straight.
Regardless of what you've heard, I do not have eyes in the back of my head. That is the front of my head where my eyes are, I just have my back to you right now. No worries- it's a common mistake.
I have been as patient as I could be. I have sat here biding my time, making sure I knew what I wanted to do. I know it has been hard for you to choose what you want as well, but now is the time. We have waited until the 11th hour and now, now we must dance the tango in the moonlight my darling.
Quit yanking my chain! You can tickle me, slap my back while doubled over with laughter, gently pull my ears, mess up my hair and even tie my shoelaces together and place my hand in a cold bucket of water when I've fallen asleep, but the chain yanking must cease! I only agreed to be tied up in chains because I am a good friend and wanted to help you with your psychology project as well as helping out your dad's fledgling chain production company at the same time.
You are always telling me that you are hot to trot and I'm always telling you that you are a horse and I don't speak horse.
Whenever I get really angry, I threaten others and swear if they don't leave me alone I will clean their clock which usually ends with me sitting at home alone icing my knees and polishing minute hands.
People are always announcing that the ball is in my court and I keep saying that it isn't a ball, it's an apple and it isn't a court, it's a tree and then they take out their rackets.
My number is up? What? My number is actually, finally up? What does that mean? Don't tell me to calm down or relax! I am panicking over here right now and am just not in the right frame of mind to think of what I want or need from that deli over there. How can you think of cold cuts at a time like this? My number is up and you are hungry? You are dead to me.
I am going to knock your socks off! That's right! Be prepared to be wowed and de-socked! Here comes something so amazing and thrilling that your feet will be bare in moments. That's right, what comes next is so bedazzling that your feet will be in one place and your socks elsewhere with your sock drawer being only one possible destination. Are you ready? Okay, if you could just remove your shoes and pull your socks partially off before I begin that would be very helpful.
"The grass is always greener" my roommate always said filled with jealousy. My roommate was a poetic cordless lawnmower.
"A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down" sings a lady on the television. Whenever it plays, I always mumble along as I lay on the floor covered with ants after yet another accidental sugar-induced coma. Always taking things too far when sweeteners and ladies in song are involved.
Yes, I know. The writing is on the wall. I put it there. I sensed the end of our relationship was coming, so I went to the store and bought a set of new permanent markers, spent hours working on my penmanship and my cursive writing and then came up with the most passive aggressive, hitting-too-close-to-home and well-written good-bye material I could come up with considering my full time schedule and the pain that I feel inside. Your point?
I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you! But your voice is like fingernails on a chalkboard to me although, to be honest, after spending the better part of last week locked in a small, windowless room being forced against my will to scrape my own fingernails on a chalkboard, I am just not the person to ask if your voice sounds too high-pitched and screechy these days.
My boss is so cruel and uncaring and I can't believe he accidentally cut me with his antique and supposedly dull machete that he brought work to show off to us all. And then to make it worse, he not only refused to use the first aid skills we were taught last week and were mandated to use, but instead he took my vials of rare and expensive salts that were the last gift my unnecessarily risk-taking and law-breaking salt-collector of a grandfather gave to me on his deathbed and literally poured them into the cut on my arm! Who does that?
I wanted to love her and treat her like a fragile porcelain doll, but despite all of the gifts I bought her and the flowers I sent and the breakfasts I served her in bed, I just couldn't help adding insult to injury which she loved up to a point, as she had quite the tolerance and appreciation for sarcasm and wit and biting humour, until I broke her. Literally.
I'm not sure what you are trying to say! Yes, I have a positive outlook on life, and yes, I choose to see the best in every person and situation, and yes, I do believe that everything will turn out in the end and there is no reason to stress or fret, but I am honestly starting to get a little annoyed with your smirking at and obvious disdain for my new rose-coloured glasses that I happen to think are quite fashionable.
She told me, before she left, that I read her like a book complete with accidental coffee stains, folding over her corners, leaving her open upside down on the counter overnight and ignoring her for weeks at a time amassing huge overdue fees from the local library. Plus, I never returned her calls.
Wow! I am just loving life right now! I've got so much youthful enthusiasm and energy and I just want to go out in the world and make a difference. And although I am bouncing off the walls and raring to go, I am second guessing actually walking around with a spring in my step - horrible blisters and massively uncomfortable.
I've got the world on a string, but that isn't saying much as I made the mistake of literally filling my house with sticky string and now I have everything, and I mean everything, attached to me via string: a plastic globe, my cat, a bag of cinnamon - everything! Nothing worth singing about.
It's where? Are you kidding? For real? You actually took the proof and mixed it into the pudding? But why? That is seriously messed up and weird, dude! I get hiding the proof and all, as those proof-seekers will stop at nothing to attain the truth, but why ruin a perfectly good batch of pudding! As I've told you before, tapioca doesn't grow on trees, it is a root that is grown mostly in Africa and South America!
Nothing is quite like taking candy from a baby aside from prying sweet bonbons from the sweaty, grimy and cute little hands of toddlers reducing them to nothing but wailing little humanoids who are far cries from the "oohs" and the "aahs" and the "I want to hold and kiss the baby" and the "you're so cute, do you want some candy?" babies you were a few minutes ago! Who is the cutest and has the candy now? Damn straight.
Regardless of what you've heard, I do not have eyes in the back of my head. That is the front of my head where my eyes are, I just have my back to you right now. No worries- it's a common mistake.
I have been as patient as I could be. I have sat here biding my time, making sure I knew what I wanted to do. I know it has been hard for you to choose what you want as well, but now is the time. We have waited until the 11th hour and now, now we must dance the tango in the moonlight my darling.
Quit yanking my chain! You can tickle me, slap my back while doubled over with laughter, gently pull my ears, mess up my hair and even tie my shoelaces together and place my hand in a cold bucket of water when I've fallen asleep, but the chain yanking must cease! I only agreed to be tied up in chains because I am a good friend and wanted to help you with your psychology project as well as helping out your dad's fledgling chain production company at the same time.
You are always telling me that you are hot to trot and I'm always telling you that you are a horse and I don't speak horse.
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