I loathe about.com.
I wish I'd majored in classics.
I wish I'd majored in English and paid more attention.
"Some" is a really weird word.
I am meeting Anne at Yoga Hour for $4.
It will be an adventure because I don't know if Yoga Oasis takes debit.
Also, I don't have a mat.
So would the prospective benefits of mandatory voting be worth the insult to our God-given freedoms to burn ballots and shirk the polls for Beavis and Butthead reruns? Further, I can't wait to reach into my plastic baggie next time I want to buy a soda or put on lipstick. Kate Spade should seize the market. Off to swallow group. Abracadabra, homes.
Positive and enlightening inspiration for aspiring would-be writers everywhere:
Detective Bart Lasiter was in his office studying the light from his one small window falling on his super burrito when the door swung open to reveal a woman whose body said you've had your last burrito for a while, whose face said angels did exist, and whose eyes said she could make you dig your own grave and lick the shovel clean.
-Jim Guigli
Carmichael, CA
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