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 |  Are hash tags still cool? |
| After recovering from a small bout of depression, I'm back again to talk about first world problems, make fun of my ridiculousness, and find a place where I can just be me. |
| Prompt: Why do you like to blog. What appeal does it hold for you personally? I really love writing about ME. Trust me, my love of writing about myself only sounds vain because it IS Vain. Let's be real with each other for a moment, what's better than reading about ME? Can't think of anything? It's Ok, I already know... I'm awesome.  I can't help it. I was born this way. Did I just type that out loud? What I MEAN to say is that I love blogging because it's an excellent platform for me to express my feelings about the important issues: current happenings and the Americas and KIm K letting pregnancy turn her fat. I also love lying and gossiping. Sometimes, even though I know I shouldn't- like Jack and Vodka and Joan Rivers-I love mixing up lies and gossip until they resemble half-truths, semi-truths, running-in-the-sprinkler-naked-truths, and no-that's-not-truth-at-all-that's-your-neighbors-cat. Blogging also helps me with the bad habit I have of just saying things that I don't know to be truth. Did you hear that Snuffleupagus from Sesame street died of cancer? No, he didn't die of cancer. But, I told someone that he did. If I'd have blogged about Snuffleupagus, I would have taken the time to google and get my facts straight before I went around telling people that their favorite childhood characters had contracted a terminal illness. So maybe, it's not about whether or not I like to blog, as much as I NEED to blog. Seriously, if I made up gossip, talked about myself, and said everything I thought to be true in the Real World, I'd probably either be in a jail or a mental institution. Therefore, I must say THANK YOU to blogging for saving my life. |
| PROMPT: Do you remember when businesses closed on Sundays and it was a respected day of rest and worship? Write about Those Sundays, and compare it to how Sundays are spent now. No. I don't remember that.I'm 25. I'm starting to wonder why you do though? (jk...lol. I couldn't help it) Actually, I live in the country, and my town pretty much closes down at 5:00 PM on the Weekdays and Sunday. Its really inconvenient because I'm always AT WORK during those hours, and I can never get to anything before it closes. My city website describes my city as a premiere retirement community that ",has received designation as a Certified Retirement Community by the Texas Department of Agriculture." I guess old people enjoy living in a town where you have to rest on Sundays. I also suspect that only old people can write about ",Those Sundays, and compare it to how Sundays are spent now." I'm suspecting that they even remember when "Heavens to Betsy," was an in-phrase. The truth about Sundays where everything is closed and you're forced to rest is that it's INCONVENIENT. Especially, when you think about all of the things that you have to cram into Saturdays. And how nice it would be if the library was open on Sunday because you wouldn't have to deal with the bitchy librarian when you come to the library to print something at 4:45 on a Weekday. Me: But Ma'am this is the only time I have to print this insurance card and borrow a book Librarian: Well, perhaps it's time you buy a printer. As a result of everywhere else being closed on Sundays, going to Wal~Mart is like attending court. Sometimes, I just go to catch up on my gossip and see who I can see, and so does the rest of my town. Therefore, Wal-mart turns into a cluster-fuc*. Sure, it's cool when you see a few people you know, but it absolutely sucks when you've already been to Wal~mart and are just running in to grab some Oreos because Wal~Mart is the only thing open on sundays. Waiting behind people who either a) can't work the self-checkout b) bring 50+ items to the 20 item or less lane or c) are clearly sick with some kind of pandemic and have made it their personal business to TOUCH EVERYTHING makes me hate these kind of Sundays. |
| Today is April Fool's day... Find out a bit about Tom Fool and the History behind April Fool's Day then tell us about the best prank you ever pulled or ever had pulled on you. The internet says that Tom Fool is a famous race horse (1949-1976), but I don't think that was the Tom Fool the prompt was looking for. Tom Fool doesn't seem to be a particular person, but rather a "tomfool" representing a stupid or foolish person. (answers.com) I'm glad to add the word tomfool to my personal dictionary as I know quite a few "tomfools," and I love varying up my usage of the English language. No longer will I say, "Hey IDIOT!" but rather "Yo! Tomfool! What it do?" The exact origin of April Fool's Day is spotty, but my favorite explanation that I've read is that a court jester told Constantine (the Roman Ruler) that he could do a better job of running the empire. Constantine decided to amuse the jester and allowed him to be king for a day thereby creating April Fool's Day. (And we wonder why Rome fell) My friend Cal and I have engaged in a prank war of our own for the last 7 years: ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** I hid in her closet every Tuesday for a year. She shined a flashlight into my apartment window making think that someone was breaking in, so I ran out of the bathroom with my pants down. I broke into her apartment and re-arranged all of her furniture. She tagged photos of me on Facebook as Nancy Grace and Karen Kingsbury. I saran wrapped and post-it noted her car. She sent letters to my house addressed to Dingus. I --well-I can't admit to that prank as she still doesn't know about it. THE BEST PRANKSTERS When I was in college, there was a secret fraternity called the noze brothers who'd been pulling pranks at my university since 1929. One of there most notable members is Senator Rand Paul (Yeah, I was shocked too. I can't believe the guy who was recently in the news for that boring ass 13-hour filibuster was actually cool at one point.) The club was founded because of a joke, "that a guys nose was so big you could form a club around it." They were banned from campus in the mid 1960s for "repeated acts of vandalism" like painting the same bridge pink. They didn't let being banned stop them from their campus hijinks, instead they dressed up in fake noses to conceal their identity and turned into a secret society. The Noze brothers are known for their satirical University paper called the rope, painting the noses on all of the statues pink, and dropping 1,000 ping pong balls on a guest speaker during Chapel. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] Sorry for the video quality, it's from 2003. I am proud to say that my friend and I discovered the identity of a Noze brother. During college, Callie Leonore   (the waterslide friend) and I were invited to a day of old-school nintendo playing at one of her friends' houses. The popular Noze joke-at the time-was stealing the stand for the campus newspaper. While we were playing nintendo, Cal decided to snoop around this guys' house. She was getting bored. Here's how the conversation went down: Cal: Is this a lariat stand? Guy: Yes Cal: Is this a noze brother paddle? Guy: I got it from a friend Cal: Are you a noze brother? (Guy gives funny uncomfortable look) Cal: Are these Noze glasses? Guy: I'm not a noze brother AND HERE IS THE BEST PART OF THE CONVERSATION Cal: For someone in a secret society, you should hide your stuff better. If you want more info on the Noze brotherhood you can look them up on wikipedia. |
| Prompt: Serial Experience – Part One: Recall a short anecdote from your daily life this past month. It can have a moral or not, be humorous or mundane, it doesn’t matter. On the first day, write the story from your point of view. On the second day (today), write the story from the perspective of an inanimate object or animal which was present in the previous entry. Well Friends, it's the last day of the 30dbc. This has been a blast! Now comes the true test...Do I blog tomorrow? Plant's POV When I first saw the girl, I knew that I was in trouble. She talked on her cell phone, chewing gum, and started cussing when she saw me. "Shit," she said to her phone, "I think someone gave me a plant. No, it's not a bad thing. It's just. It's a nice looking plant and it's going to die." I didn't want to go inside her death chamber, but she tugged me in anyways. "I hope you know, that nothing good can come from us," she grunted. "I hope you know that yer' gunna die." I was scared of her, but she gave me what I needed. She told me that she was going to kill me, but she never did. As time wore on, I could have sworn she might have even liked me almost as much as she liked telling me about Vampire Diaries. She wasn't as awful as she seemed. Well, she wasn't awful until... I heard it before I saw it. I heard her telling the postman, "I'm so doggun' excited. Bring it in!" I watched her hop from foot to foot and smile broader than I'd ever seen her. When the postman left she yelled out, "It's here! It's finally here! My brand new 50" television!" She moved me away from the window, then. She moved me next to the television saying, "you complete the room right here." After she moved me, she forgot about me. I hate that stupid television. It took up all of her time and attention. Now instead of talking to me about Vampire Diaries she tells the television, "Damnit, Elaina you've got 2 choices. Stop being so picky!" I wish she'd talk to me instead of that television. I'm so thirsty. She's only given me half a bottle of crystal light since she got the thing. I'm a plant...I need water. She's also stopped wearing clothes since she got the stupid television. It started out with pants, and now it's pants and shirts. I wonder if her clothes are starting to miss her as much as I do. I wish she'd look at me. She's killing me. I don't know how long I stay here ignored until she looks at me. My leaves are brown and ugly. I'm not as pretty. "Shit," she says "You're dying." She gives me water. The girl puts me in the sun. She gives me new dirt. I feel happy. I feel alive. She didn't kill me. Today she looked at me, and for the first time I heard her say, "Plant, you're going to live. I'm not going to kill you." |
| Prompt: Serial Experience – Part One: Recall a short anecdote from your daily life this past month. It can have a moral or not, be humorous or mundane, it doesn’t matter. On the first day, write the story from your point of view. On the second day (tomorrow), write the story from the perspective of an inanimate object or animal which was present in the previous entry. I thought that it was a Welcome to the Complex gift from my neighbors. I chuckled when I saw the tall awkward plant right in front of my door. It was trouble. It was going to die. That damn plant. I considered leaving it right in front of my door, but I already had that stupid and flimsy, Proud to be an American doormat that would blow anywhere but right in front of my door where it was supposed to be. So, I tugged that damn plant inside of my apartment thinking You're going to die. Don't get comfortable. My Dad called thirty minutes later with the instructions he intended for the plant. You would think that I'm too old for my Dad to attempt to teach me life lessons. You would think that taking care of myself with family nowhere near me would be hard enough, but apparently not. My Dad told me that he didn't want me to be lonely, and that it was my responsibility to keep the plant alive for 6 months. I hate it when my Dad does shit like that. I don't know if he's been reading too many books or watching too many movies, but I hate it when he tries to give me a life lesson through something metaphorical. It'd save us both a lot of time if he'd just tell me a story about some other girl and her plant, instead of giving me a plant and making me glean something. "It's not enough to care for yourself," my dad said cryptically,"If you can keep it alive for 6 months you're really an adult, and you can name it." I hung up my phone and looked at that plant. We were stuck together. At first the plant and I did well together, I watered it daily and tried to give it plenty of sunlight. I would talk to the plant at times, "Don't you think that Katherine and Elaina should just share Stefan and Damon?" "Plant, do we need cable?" As time wore on, the plant had to fend for itself. I gave it water once a week and moved it to a spot where it would complete the room, and not get any sunlight. The leaves started browning, and I started getting seriously pissed off at the plant. Why did it have to come into my life? Didn't it know that I was too freaking busy for it? When I get home all I want to do is fix myself some dinner and go to sleep, not keep something alive. Not remember to give it plenty of water! I called my Dad last Monday, "Dad the plant is dying! I can't keep it alive." "Is it dead yet?" "No." "Well it seems to me, that you have to do more than come straight home and worry about all of your needs. It seems to me that you need to worry about someone elses." "Huh?" "Give it some fertilizer. You'll get it later." I stared at the phone for a while trying to understand what my Dad meant. I'm terrible with cryptic messages. It wasn't until I fell asleep last night that I realized what my Dad was getting at. It's not enough to worry about yourself as an adult, it's important that you take the time to worry about other things and other people. You have to make room in your life for more needs than your own. |
| Prompt:Do you believe our dreams have a meaning or purpose? What is your opinion on dream interpretation? Have you ever tried to interpret your dreams? I've never taken the time to contemplate whether or not our dreams have a meaning or purpose. I believe in living life one day at a time, and not to question things that aren't immediate problems. So, I guess the answer to this prompt would be sort of halfish--Yes and No. When I was little I always had the dream that I was going to the bathroom. I'd walk down the long hall straight into our bathroom, and I'd pee--pee right into my bed. My dreams fall in two categories: outrageous and meh, it could happen. A lot of them have the same hooks, too. Like I'll be at work typing on the computer, and then I'll be falling off of a mountain top. I'll be in China counting money at my fish stand and then falling out of a plane. I do a lot of falling, crashing, and being paralyzed in my dreams. I also do a fair amount of flying, multi-tasking, and partying with fictional characters. The greatest correlation I've ever had between a dream and real life is when I fall asleep doing something, I'll usually have some element of what I was doing in my dream. I kind of think that dreaming has the most to do with what's on your mind then anything else. I have a dream interpretation app, but I question whether or not my dream of crashing off of the interstate really meant that I felt like I had no control over my life and needed to connect with old family ties. I think dream interpretation books take a lot of general feelings and don't really interpret anything. But maybe there is some greater meaning to our dreams. Maybe people just haven't discovered the real meaning behind dreams yet. |
| Prompt: How long have you gone without something necessary to your survival (food, shelter, water, sleep, or clothing)? 2.5 days without sleep. I have Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder. (OCPD) 1 Not to be confused with OCD. I don't talk about it much, and I probably never will.2 At the height of my OCPD I would sit in my room typing on my computer wearing nothing but a green towel and eating spoons of peanut butter for days. Every sentence had to be the best damn sentence that was ever written. I'd sit in front of my computer for hours deleting and re-writing the same sentence because it wasn't right, and it wasn't right because I was stupid. I'd never get it right. I never got anything right. My room was a disaster area. I had to keep everything because I might be able to use it for something else, and why did everyone care that my room was such a mess? It was my space AND it didn't matter.. Nothing mattered until I got that one fucking sentence right. By the time I managed to pump out a paper-days later-I would convince myself that it was a piece of crap and re-write it. On bad nights I'd have panic attacks because I couldn't get it perfect. No one knows this, but one time I stayed up for 2 days straight working on a paper because it just didn't sound right. In the end, I didn't even turn the paper in because I was convinced it was the worst thing I'd ever written. Studying was worse. I studied for my Statistics final for 2 1/2 days with no sleep. By the time I got to my final I was so tired. I remember just staring at the final, and I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't answer anything. I was such an idiot, and I just wanted to be done with everything. Most embarrassingly, I just wanted to be done with life. I didn't answer a single question on that final. I just wrote my name on the test, and walked out after 30 minutes. It was before a holiday, and my mom was coming to pick me up from school. I hadn't packed, so I told myself I'd take a nap. I set my alarm clock, and slept through it while it was ringing. My mom had been calling my phone for an hour. The only reason I woke up is that the Residence Hall director tried knocking on my door, and heard the alarm clock still going off. They thought something had happened to me. When I finally woke up, I remember being so confused and disoriented. On the ride home, it hit me that I'd just I blown my final. It was during the 3-hour ride from school to home that I told my mom I just needed help because--because normal people didn't act like me. I think telling my mom I needed help was the best thing I've ever done for myself. I got on some medicine and some therapy. Occasionally, I'll have a bad day or week or month, but it's nothing like what it was. The best proof is this blog. It's my nice little spot where things can be wrong, badly grammared, and a hot wreck at times. I gotta say, it's nice not bein' perfect. Footnotes |
| Prompt: Have you ever wanted to trade places with someone else for a day, a week, or a lifetime? Is so, who was it and why? I'm happy being myself. I live a quiet fairly random life comprised of all of the things I love. So, why would I want to trade even a minute of it with someone else? Even so, I've decided not to be lame and keep with the general spirit of the prompt. If I could trade places with anyone it would be Mike Meyers when Kanye West said, "George Bush doesn't care about black people." Why? Because I've always wanted to know the celebrity thought process of an awkward situation. What are you supposed to do when your co-star goes completely off script? and more importantly Just what the hell are you thinking in a moment like this? If you take the time to watch this clip, please pay attention to Mike Meyers face. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] |
| Prompt: Part One: Find something from history that happened on March 25th to research and give us your thoughts. Part Two: Invent something that will happen on March 25th some day in the future (one year from now, five years, 100 years) and write about it as if it were history. R-E-S-P-E-C-T Find out What It Means to Me R-E-S-P-E-CT Take Care, TCB Move over Katherine McPhee and Big Sean because 71 years ago at 406 Lucy Avenue in Memphis, Tennessee a Queen was born. That’s right the original Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin. She’s known for some of my favorite songs: Respect, Chain of Fools, and I’ve never loved a man (the way I loved you). I could go into a long entry about her career, but I think it’s only best to skip all of that and find out what everyone under 30 has wanted to know, What the hell is, “TCB?” The answer is disgustingly simple for a lyric that has confounded me for my entire life. It’s just an acronym, and stands for Take Care of Business. So really, Aretha is singing Take Care, Take Care of Business. My favorite thing about Aretha Franklin is that we both own the same coat. It was during President Obama’s 2009 Inauguration that I first got a glimpse of the Queen of Soul singing My Country ‘Tis of Thee in almost the exact same coat that I’d recently bought at Burlington Coat Factory. As my celebrity-gossip idol Joan Rivers would say, “Bitch stole my look.” Unfortunately for me, Aretha wore the look better. She had a matching church-hat that might have rivaled my Aunt Mildred’s hat collection. The 2009 hat made headlines. Like all good church-hats the hat was custom made by Luke Song at Song Millinery. He did not sell any exact replicas of the hat he made for Aretha, but he did sell other hats in the same style. In case you were wondering, I did try to buy a Song hat, but my Dad put his foot down saying, “Who do you think you are? Aretha Franklin?” [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] PART II On March 25th 2023, a small town girl published a book that changed lives called What the Hell?-And other life problems. It was an instant classic known for its sad, fantasy, humorous, and romantic idealizations of a youth wondering What the Hell?. The writer of the books became an overnight sensation and almost instant billionaire. Following her debut novel with Oh Hell, Oh No you DIDN'T ,and Thanks, but No-Oh! the author is known by Cavity and is the voice of many suburbanite raised adults who just needed someone to voice middle-of-the-road life problems in a refreshingly non-judgmental way. Cavity's books baffled critics, and opened up a hyper-post-modern literary question How can something so vapid be so deep, like seriously? Cavity's success led her to marry singer Bruno Mars in a 24 hour Vegas Wedding, that many speculated might have been due to written threats mailed to Bruno Mars. One letter is rumored to say, Bruno baby, if you don't marry me I'll buy your record label and fire you and everyone you know. When you stood in that one music video and told me you loved me. I thought you meant it. Despite the many rumors circulating about her marriage to Bruno Mars, Cavity repeatedly reported to the press that she was happy and secure in her marriage, and that she was working on getting N Sync back together. 2 years later she got members of N Sync to record an album that the Rolling Stone called, " simple but mind-blowing." Unfortunately, the rumors forced Cavity to file a divorce from Bruno Mars in March 2028 stating in the divorce papers, "He was getting old anyways." Later, Cavity married Ryan Gosling and had two children Greta Gosling and Ryan Gosling Jr. She now resides in Beverly Hills, CA and enjoys riding on her yacht and talking on her CNN show. She is currently being filmed for a reality television show based on her life called, Well, if you really wanna be me. |
| Prompt: It's Sunday! We all know the prompt! If you haven't figured it out yet, it's something about a Sunday Review. Today was just an average Sunday at the grocery store. I collected my essential needs--toothpaste, yogurt, the last 2 Harry Potter movies on Blue Ray, shrimp, the magazine telling me not to call Kim K fat, microwave dinners, and strawberry shortcake gum-- then went to my favorite aisle: Aisle 11: SNACK I grabbed my usual box of Oreos and then headed over to the Cheese-Its. I found the Cheese-Its in the weird flavors and then I found a gigantic hole where my favorite snack food in the world was supposed to be! They were SOLD OUT!!!!!!!!!!!! WTF? I'm proud of myself because I didn't drop to the floor and throw a Wal~Mart Temper Tantrum. I handled this situation maturely; I stared at the hole where my Cheese-Its were supposed to be, hoping to access my dormant magical powers. It didn't work. So, I went to my other default Cheese-Its:Junior Scrabble. THOSE WERE SOLD OUT TOO! At that point I talked to the manager, and he managed to find the last box of Cheese-Its: Spiderman. This means that all week I'm going to be staring at Spider Man designs. I mean, it could be worse, but who is this other Cheese-It addict? My town doesn't have the Cheese-It capacity for 2 of us. Aside from my minor snack food emergency, my life has been pretty drama-less. I had a dream that I crashed my car off of an interstate. I dreamed I was dead until I realized that there are no freeways where I live and that it was strange that I was using my dashboard as a stovetop. It was a very unsettling dream. I woke up happy to be alive. I was so happy that I thought about going to church. This is big for me. I haven't been to a church since my aunt passed away (last year). I believe in God and Jesus and all of that, but churches scare me. It's probably because going to church forces me to explore my personal relationships with certain people, and I don't want to explore them. I'm happy ignoring my major life problems, and I don't even want to contemplate forgiveness. EVER. Woah! That was an unexpected ramble. I should probably delete that paragraph, but whatevs. Today is Sunday, I do not press the delete key on Sundays. You know what the sunday review needs? A gossip column. As I'm a pretty awesome gossip and a known liar, I think that the responsibility falls on me. Hot Gossip with Cavity Tramp Stamps & Vamps-The Truth Behind some of your favorite 30dbc bloggers Brother Nature-Millionaire? Apparently Joel's Brother Nature back from his vacation and posted some videos onto his blog."Invalid Entry"  I'm not sure about the time line of these vacation photos, but rumor has it that he went to Toronto to explore the Canadian Wilds in search of the special Canadian Daffodil. You've never heard of the Canadian Daffodil? Well, let me enlighten you. The Canadian Daffodil has magical properties that can turn water into wine and rocks into gold. No one knows if Joel found it yet, but he was spotted putting some suspicious looking gold rocks into a messenger bag. Is Joel a secret millionaire? My sources can neither confirm or deny these claims. Renduring's Wild Night Ren the Klutz! is supposed to be at Area 51 doing smart people things, BUT my sources claim that she snuck out for a bachelorette party. It gets better. Apparently, she had a wild Vegas night, and got a tattoo on her butt. Now, I would normally call a butt tattoo with some guys name on it a tramp stamp or a hoe tag, but these are merely rumors and there's no reason to be vicious. REN--whose name is actually Renee (I just learned that)--claims that it's all fiction. BUT we know that Ren does not believe in fiction because smart people don't read fiction, they just don't. It's all speculation at this point, as we've got no photos of this alleged wild night. I can confirm, however, that Ren does live on Area 51 as several official men showed up at my door step demanding that I hand over my computer and that I stop mentioning Ren's area 51 life. I shoved one of the special agents down and ran away. In fact, I'm so determined to let you readers know that Area 51 exists and that Ren is their best genius, that I'm writing this from a bunker using a borrowed cell phone for my mobile hotspot. I'll have to switch locations tomorrow.You don't believe any of my Ren story, do you? Maybe you should read her post "Invalid Entry" But even Ren's wild night is not nearly as scandalous as SapphireRainee and ember_rain, or as I like to call them the Rains The Rains Need Your Help The Rains may seem like sweet and charming mothers, but don't be fooled. ember_rain is so in love with the Sims and JR Ward novels that she was turned into a vampire sim, and is now trapped inside of her computer! I'm not sure how it happened, but apparently the spell involved a Leprechaun. The only way to break it was to speak Irish, and as SapphireRainee was the only Irish speaking person that Ember knew she solicited her help. You don't believe that Sapphire can speak Irish? Then what was that Erin go Bragh business about on St. Paddy's Day? "Invalid Entry" Exactly. Apparently, the spell didn't work and Ember is still stuck inside of her computer. I hear she's desperate for escape as JR Ward's new BDB novel is coming out this week. Sapphire has enlisted the teacher's union for help, but all she's gotten for support is 3 #2 pencils and someone to clean her erasers. Rains, if you're reading this, please use shift+ctrl+c motherlode. There's no need to be a poor sim.Shadowpup or Shadowpire? Moody Blue: Needs an Upgrade has been a writing.com member for 10 years! 10 YEARS! That's 2 years before high speed internet became an in-thing. But that's not the hot gossip. The hot gossip is that Shadow pup is a vampire. I know what you're thinking! How did I jump to that conclusion? I used logic. Writer made a crossword puzzle to celebrate her 10 year anniversary.
Vampires love crossword puzzles. (They're the only ones who have enough knowledge of pop culture and history to successfully complete one) A cruciverbalist (I learned that word from a Sandra Bullock Movie  ) is like the head-honcho vampire. Therefore, Writer is a vampire.(That's some sound logic. I think that's why I was once accepted into law school) Prosperous, is it really JUST COFFEE? This just IN Prosperous Snow celebrating  lives in VEGAS! VEGAS! And what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Or does it? Apparently not. It turns out that Prosperous' morning coffee is not morning coffee, but rather Coffay! Coffay is a powerful drink used to transport people back in time. That's right! Prosperous has been going back in time and meeting famous poets who have been tutoring her in the ways of daily poetry writing. Now we all know how Snow's poetry is so good. Maybe we can ask her where she keeps her secret stash. Fivesixer or Snoozer? Fivesixer  There's no gossip about 56er today. His life is scandalous enough. Don't believe me. Read my favorite entry of the week: "This one's about more shenanigans." If you've got any good gossip for next week's Sunday Review, please feel free to notify me. I will pay you 50 gift points per story. 100 gift points for pics. HAPPY SUNDAY! |
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Independence is so important. There's no better feeling than knowing that you can do something for yourself without assistance.
