I don’t mind going grocery shopping, or even giving all my money away just so we can eat, as long as there continues to be magazine headlines waiting for me at the checkout stand.
A couple wants two split their two-headed baby, with each couple receiving one head. That sounded reasonable to me. Downright Biblical. Old Testament, of course.
And I see that Saddam is being whipped into shape by a giant woman. And wearing a diaper. Hmmm. That’s a little questionable. I mean, I think we would have heard more about this giant woman, don’t you think?
Anyway.
Kelly Rippa lost weight and according to the revealing cover photo, now has a bony chest. Big deal. I spent a good third of my life with a bony chest. If I could get all of these boxes unpacked, I’d show you a photo. I’d like to tell you that I looked just like Kelly, but of course, you’d see right through that lie. But once in eighth grade, at a basketball game, all the guys came running up to me and said that the visiting schools girl’s team had a girl on it that was a dead ringer for me. A lost twin or something. Reluctantly, I followed them over to the court for a look, and sure enough, standing there in front of us all was the eighth grade girl version of me, bony chest and all. Try living that one down.
And so and so might get back together with so and so, which doesn’t interest me in the least. And a midget serial killer has finally been caught apparently. But with no time to read, I have no idea if it’s someone killing midgets or a midget killing someones.
Oh the sweet mystery of living in America.
I do sometimes wonder if that girl grew up to look just like I do now. I mean, wouldn’t that be something.