To the very cute single Mr Man who I did your taxes for yesterday: Don't hit on me. Seriously. I just saw your income for last year, and you don't own a house. Why? Because you are financially irresponsible is why, and I'm not interested. Please pay at the front.
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Lightbulbs. I didn't give them as presents. I received a box one time. As a gag. However Ashley (who is my young way cool friend, Thithy's youngest daughter) has a great Christmas tree decoration on her tree which is a lightbulb. I know because I helped decorate the tree.
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Thursday nights. No, I don't watch Grey's Anatomy on Thursday nights on ABC at 9/8C.
I watch it on Friday nights on abc.com when it has loaded fo' free to the inner-net. Sweet Lordy. It's just like an expanded YouTube video... with commercials... and a plot. OH THE PLOTS.
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Rum? Come on, Becky. I thought I raised you better than that. For the ultimate high, drink a whole pot of coffee and add large quantities of Andes mints. You won't sleep for 2 days.
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Crunchy is doing better. Thank the Lord. I don't think I could have handled that much longer. She was practically BARKING. The crying contest? Jaimi and I stayed up until about oh, 3am, catching up on life. I had shut Crunchy up in the laundry room more for my peace of mind than for Jaimi and the kiddos, and Crunchy didn't like it one. little. bit. Then Chloe woke up right when we were settling down and I guess she cried the rest of the night. I crashed finally, but for awhile it was back and forth between Chloe crying and Crunchy mewing. Loudly.
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Still selling books on Amazon. Delightfully. Two days ago I impulsively raised the price on a book by $5. It sold today. woohoo!
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Did I miss anything?
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