I'd like to know when my person became a democracy instead of a dictatorship. Why should my back have equal say in the work I choose to do and why should my lungs be able to vote no whenever they want. Hmmmpf and whine. And why oh why must K change the channel like a freaking revolving door. Every time I look up there is another program on.
"Have fun. Good Luck to both of you" . . . "We got to eat. Grab hold of that thang right behind it's head" . . ."It's equal parts, call my name and equal parts, don't call my name". . . "The Australian Outback is treacherous" . . ."Monday" . . . "This thunderstorm has already produced a tornado". . . "Our staff over there" . . ."in her bedroom. It's what happens when I touch". . ."You're a bad, bad man." . . . "*gunfire* Let's go! Everybody move. We've got perimeters set up". . . "We don't like it when it's gooey" . . ."It's not sexual. Not that you are not an attractive woman." . . ."WHAT IS HAPPENING!?" . . . "There's nothing that works like confidence . . " . . "Hold my stones. . ." back track "keystones". . ." I need some hot chicks" . . ."I blog about these things" . . .
And I do, or I am. Anyway, My body is in civil unrest. I going to have get tough. There will be blood. Well maybe not. But when I tell my legs to walk, they damn well, better! None of this wibbly wobbley stuff. I stiff dose of Ibuprofen will strong arm it back into it's place. Hah!