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If you hear Wham!’s “Last Christmas” at Trader Joe’s, stop shopping immediately and guzzle a 32 oz. carton of eggnog. Post #Whamanogageddon!
I never snuck out because unfortunately, my parents understood that late-night parties were an integral part of a teenager’s socialization.
After learning that Big Bird’s top four films on Letterboxd were American, Jeremy forced Big Bird to undergo something called “Bergman Boot Camp.”
You sit down with a macchiato to check Instagram, so you go to join the Wifi, and instead of a clever name, you find yourself logging on to "ATT117x"?
You see a small cottage at the edge of the field-- “A cottage? What is this? A visualization or something?”
There is one sliver of happiness, and it can be discovered only in the pages of children’s books depicting the cross-sections of ships, old and new.
German Shallot Stew: Wait… this is a little too similar to French Onion Soup. No worries. We’ve got plenty more recipes!
Bath time shall last a minimum of three hours or until I’ve shriveled to one-half my natural size. ABSOLUTELY NO HAIR WASHING.
The criminals must have also found it easy to sneak around me, due to the rug, and fireplace, and radio.
I’ve seen more get-togethers than Uncle Harold, may he rest in peace. He sat his ample frame on me dozens of times. His bum was one of the good ones.
Apple pie is still on! Flour is in high demand and low availability, so we will have to make do with some sort of potato-based crust.
While I'm technically "the boss," I don't want that detail to deter you from asking me lots of questions about my rejuvenating three-week sojourn.