In recent visits to purchase kelp flavored apple sauce, I came across a spatula that seemed to shrink when I gazed upon it. We shall not be able to overcome the indescribable feeling that comes with tiny, minute, pancake flippers which give way to temptation. Shun them I suppose with great resistance.
Collusion is a part of my genetic makeup. My manual transmission is pulling these feelings out of me. Don't you think I should partake in such tomfoolery? I can't stand the frightening nature of parameters. Oh, and by the way, if you see me at the partridge family reunion festival, be sure to remind me of my inclination to proliferate my ambulance.
I bet you wonder what this means. While watching dukes of hazzard on my couch something poked me in my leg when I sat down. To my surprise it was my shunt resistor that had been so close to my heart for years. After January she disappeared from my life. We watched dukes of hazzard together for a solid week catching up on old times. I then pretended that my newly found shunt resistor made a great partner in viewing re-runs of the dukes (me and my resistor) in hazzard county.
Somebody said I should write about my experience with the carpal tunnel gnomes. "Somebody" is a euphemism for antelope ticks. So here goes.
I went to the rolling pin for some tubular advice. He/she said my hombre was justified in rapping about granules. I don't know whether I took offense, or if I was stupendous. Either way, that whatchamacallit sent me down to the river to see if there were any underwater globes to be had. There I encountered the carpal tunnel gnomes of yesteryear. They keeled over in dismay when I told them of my fascination with horticulture. Although they didn't have much to say, they did entertain me to the point of undercooking my deer sausage.
Over there is my panda bear shaped grape soda. I procured it from the hospital when Tomathy was there next week with an appendix bypass interruption. Don't think the attending prosthetic didn't notice my be-gloved-ness, or the jamboree infestation in my Pinto. Undoing mass migration is the business I hope to be in when I graduate from the state college of Umbro shorts. Or there may be snapping pigeons on the Phil Collins statue on the square in Madagascar. Photo finishes are a hobby of mine, since I ate that camera a few tape guns back. I once doodled a doodle of noodles when I was huffing arctic sea turtles. Don't judge me by my overreaching habits, says the orbital bone infection.
I fell off my tricycle at the profile camp. Handing me over to the golf club manufacturers caused a yam infestation of the medulla oblongata. Therefore, I must take a full month prescription of Valtrex to put the fire out in my trachea. Justifying my internal biological clock will help pay for the operation to fill Shoeless Joe Jackson's shoes. Giving in to my compulsions, I ate the Barry Manilow 8-tracks I had been saving since next November. Lofty expectations may, however, cause me to recoil Slinky protectors. Have a field day with my understood implications, says Mr. Bond. James Bond.
...here we go.
I am grateful.
I am grateful that my family is healthy.
I am grateful that my wife accepts me and loves me in spite of all my screwups.
I am grateful that my friends and family support me, even when I make choices that don't make sense at the time.
I am grateful that I have a good job, even though I sometimes complain.
I am grateful that I have a job at all.
Mostly, I am grateful for all the blessings that have been unconditionally given to me, and undeservedly so.
For those of you who I have mentioned in this post, I am grateful for you. Please always remember that even when I complain, and even when I don't seem to be appreciative, in my heart I am eternally thankful for all the wonderful things in my life. And I am thankful for your time in reading this.
