My Amazingcounter Ain't Countin'
We wanted to apologize to you kids for our absence, but then we looked at our counter and saw a bunch of “0’s”and realized that we didn’t miss you (sing.) either.
Ok. Not true.
Things are getting silly ya’ll. And just like all you single women, our clock is ticking. And like many of you, we’re making the most of it. Now, pull my finger.
We had a surprise visit by some family from Chicago last weekend, so we rented a cabin and retreated to the mountains.
We took them with.
And I fell in love.
With my 6 year-old cousin.
We've determined that she's either going to be a lawyer or a baseball player. She's always asking questions and scratching herself.
She is an angel. We swam. We went for a ride in the car. We colored. We sat next to each other during breakfast and giggled at our fruit. We went kayaking. And we talked about how she likes to lick her hands and feet ‘cause sometimes they taste like pepperoni. How can you not love that?? What I wouldn't tickle my prostate with to meet a girl my own age with similar attributes.
France Update: I met a number of my new colleagues this week. All made good first impressions and I can only hope I returned the favor. I had dinner with one from Germany and left a bit anxious after hearing that most of Western Europe is awaiting my arrival. This was exacerbated by receipt of a list of countries of which I am in charge of. It would be easier if I just mention the countries that are not included:
Antarctica.
Which is prolly best ‘cause I normally don’t work between October and February anyway.
Regardless, the anxiety level is increasing with each passing day, yet I remained encouraged with the authority and freedom I have been given and I find further solace within my imagination of what just might become. . .
In the meantime, I am back off to the Côte d’Azur to search for homely neighborhoods, insecure, non-English speaking women with low self-esteem, and to participate in a course which apparently is in Spanish. One of the many thousands of languages I do not speak fluently. And as usual, I’m taking you with me.
Figuratively, of course.
Ok. Not true.
Things are getting silly ya’ll. And just like all you single women, our clock is ticking. And like many of you, we’re making the most of it. Now, pull my finger.
We had a surprise visit by some family from Chicago last weekend, so we rented a cabin and retreated to the mountains.
We took them with.
And I fell in love.
With my 6 year-old cousin.
We've determined that she's either going to be a lawyer or a baseball player. She's always asking questions and scratching herself.
She is an angel. We swam. We went for a ride in the car. We colored. We sat next to each other during breakfast and giggled at our fruit. We went kayaking. And we talked about how she likes to lick her hands and feet ‘cause sometimes they taste like pepperoni. How can you not love that?? What I wouldn't tickle my prostate with to meet a girl my own age with similar attributes.
France Update: I met a number of my new colleagues this week. All made good first impressions and I can only hope I returned the favor. I had dinner with one from Germany and left a bit anxious after hearing that most of Western Europe is awaiting my arrival. This was exacerbated by receipt of a list of countries of which I am in charge of. It would be easier if I just mention the countries that are not included:
Antarctica.
Which is prolly best ‘cause I normally don’t work between October and February anyway.
Regardless, the anxiety level is increasing with each passing day, yet I remained encouraged with the authority and freedom I have been given and I find further solace within my imagination of what just might become. . .
In the meantime, I am back off to the Côte d’Azur to search for homely neighborhoods, insecure, non-English speaking women with low self-esteem, and to participate in a course which apparently is in Spanish. One of the many thousands of languages I do not speak fluently. And as usual, I’m taking you with me.
Figuratively, of course.
