A Slightly More Malicious (But Still Fun!) New Game!

Make your immigrant co-worker self-conscious by offering unique spellings of everyday words -- then seduce her.

A moment to let DP to put his pants back on. Aaaaaaanndd....lights

PS: I brought extra guacomore for lunch. Do you want some?
Sonya: Never had. What is?
PS: Green poo, but better
Sonya: ...
PS: Champagne, caviar, bubber bath?
Sonya: Simon sez you scare me
PS: oooh, freeskie
Sonya: You're so learned
PS: Learned like a focks?
Sonya: Hehe.

Sent at 1:56 PM on Thursday

Sonya: take me
PS: simon sez there's a time and prace for everything, my deer.

Quack, Crunch

I break things. It's always an accident, and this never helps. In fact, it just makes it worse. My occasionally wide path of intermittent destruction is not even the result of anger or purpose. It is the result of chance and circumstance.

But of all the things I've broken (predictably, chairs) or knocked over (small humans), by far the most random has been belts.

Now I know what you're thinking, that I comically have a large meal and the belt just explodes, covering my surroundings in a circumference of splintered leather and humiliation.

But no. I have broken no fewer than four belts by simply stepping on them when I take my pants off. Clunk. "Wha? What was that? DAMN IT NOT AGAIN!" And then I save the broken belts. Because the buckle may be be cracked or broken, but the leather is still good. I think I'm saving them for when I start shooting up Velveeta and need a tourniquet. Or else for when I am forced to use them as lashings on my escape raft. I am a naive duckling cartoon.