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Be still my heart, for chivalry is not dead—merely wheezing along at three miles per hour.
Our value option, the Chuckle Tier, includes smirks, knowing smiles, and obligatory chortles at the wisecracks of uncles.
It is May 10, 2008. I am nine years old. I purchase the book Frindle from Hastings Entertainment Store. My mind grows fat off its teachings.
So now I’m a child, still bouncing on the trampoline—did I mention the forest floor is made of trampoline?—and I’m trying desperately not to cry.
I nearly turned it off three times. But if you just stick with it for episode two... that’s the juicy part.
You'd never know that it is an alive organism, save for the occasional dampness and an appropriate amount of mold that forms on the sleeves.
Coming back to the question of spiders, are you afraid of spiders generally, or only “out of context”?
3:34 AM: Still up. I’ve repeated the song so many times that I’m starting to see some of its lyrical flaws.
Is it time to overthrow the self-doubt that has plagued your absurd, tender heart for all these months? Subtract eight points if your heart is neither tender nor absurd.
I’m not sure if you are aware that my hands were a little wet when the pickle jar was passed to me.
"you’re a shooting star" -- This needs context. Most players do shoot at some point during the game. But not many are true stars.
Got a haircut and started showering every day. And I’m pretty sure he got my Michael Scott tattoo removed, but he won’t let me see.