My house smells like bacon. Which TJ would love for his house to smell like all the time. But personally, not a fan of the smell 36 hours after eating the bacon itself. It lingers. Maybe I should get bacon perfume. TJ would chase me all over. Along with the neighborhood dogs. A small price to pay.

I used to think when you got old and in the working world, everyone would be all mature and serious and profound. Today, we laughed hysterically at jokes about nuts. Technically, almonds and peanuts and cashews, but.... no. Nuts. We also can kill a good amount of time on fiber. Turns out the mature/serious/profound thing didn't work out. I think I like it better that way.

And I have a question to any teenage girls out there.... Do you find it attractive when guys your age have to hold their crotches so their pants don't fall down? And even then, it's a bit futile, especially when something tricky like stairs comes along. Is this a fashion statement that you see and think to yourself, oooh -- hot! Just curious.

SOTD: Pat Green, Baby Doll

Posted by blueostrich at 8:16 PM
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