life is like a box of chocolates...

Mar 27, 2008

... except much less appetizing and totally not worth hanging around in my mother's stomach for eight months. But I must trek on! Onward, I say, so that one day I may end up the cat lady down the street and be a nurse and apparently have no personal life. Thank you, by the way, for those who've implied such a thing. 'preciate it.

If the chicken knew what the fuck it was in for before it came out of the egg, it'd try to spontaneously combust so it wouldn't have to face it. Scrambled eggs, anyone?