TC to Glynn: do you love me, do you hate me, what’s going on?
To CL crib buyer: Heavy sigh, we just can’t get it together! It’s you, it’s me, it’s both of us. (Realizing foot in mouth) More me. I’m sorry. It’s not you. What’s up?
Asked man why he was crippled.
One word to describe celebs…do it for bloggers.
Driving past funeral home — man with bagpipes.
Pot in stocking.
Patchouli smells like gun oil.
Hope you don’t have fake boobs, b/c you’ll have to tell me all about it.
Wait. Do you?
Friends: Patty lou Bob Bobby Jo Henderson Bo Lou
Hmm…who/what’s TC?
If you meant a different Glynn please ignore the following:
DEFinitely loving you
But suspecting that WPs “publish” button is a little too close to the “save” button
What’s going on is… Discovering that a whole lot of quiet can really stir a girl up inside. And trying to ease the constant nagging ick and guilt for helpless wildlife covered inside and out with oil in the Gulf. And missing old town chocolate tortillas, cineplexes, people who say Awesome not Wicked, and friends who find great deals at Goodwill. And probably making you reach for your red editing pen with my awfully random run-on sentences.
What’s going on with you?
Glynn! I wrote this in the TBW days. And TC means “telephone call” (I think)
I (again, think) wanted to write how I used to call you and say random things and babble about work and how you would patiently listen to me explode and then say something zen.
How’s RI! AHHHHH! More acronyms!
XO!