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Björk isn't really lawn-mowing music. Unless you are using a scythe. By the light of the new moon.
Thanks, contacts who've never seen my work, for endorsing my skills on LinkedIn!
I should have started drinking at 11 a.m. like I wanted to.
Asking the same question over and over again and expecting different results is the definition of my children.
Why of course SFO has a yoga room. And of course I have availed myself of it.
Oh Sum divided by Total, why you gotta be so Mean?
Don't like my ice-cold hands during diaper changes? THEN POTTY TRAIN, DAUGHTER.
Never doubt that a small amount of peanut butter can improve an average banana. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.
The Beatles certainly have a monopoly on tax-themed songs.
As with oxygen masks on airplanes, I prepare my own snack first before assisting my children with theirs.
You can tell I'm an editor by how many tweets I don't tweet.
Tonight we're observing National Talk at Me While I'm in Another Room Day, apparently.
Romney's subliminal f-bomb: "Foreign."
Gift idea for the kids' teachers: flasks.
11 August 2013, 5:42 p.m., Harry Grove Stadium: My 8yo son voluntarily ate the crust of his pizza slice.
Silk has been around centuries before the invention of dry cleaning. YOU CAN'T FOOL ME, CLOTHING CARE TAG.
WHERE THE EFF CAN I GET A GODDAMNED ZEN GARDEN RAKE?