My apologies for anyone who may be offended by my posting of an image with bikini-clad women.
Sometimes getting what you want is a disappointment.
I’m afraid I’m about to jinx myself. The water dispenser in our refrigerator has started to flow very slowly or not at all. For you scientific folk, there ain’t no laminar flow going on. I think I’ve identified the problem to part I was able to order off Amazon for a bit under twenty bucks.
It may be unmasculine, but I want to learn how to sew.
I always thought tap-dancing was cool. Perhaps that’s a result of having a much older father and watching a lot, a lot of classic movies.
There are some things it’s just worth spending the extra money on. I love that feeling of owning something for years and being proud of the purchase knowing you’d be unhappy with the slightly more affordable version.
I may not express it verbally or in any written language, but I’m extremely cynical.
Sometimes, it’s just fun to eat corn on the cob.
I put sugar in my coffee for the first time in over a decade. I forgot how much better it tastes, but I’ll go back to just drinking it black. If for no other reason than a random scene in Airplane!. If you take the time to view the clip, notice the propeller noise in the background despite them flying on a jet. It’s like that for the whole movie. I continue to think it’s the most under-rated bit of comedy in all of cinema.
Rubber does not conduct electricity, but does the amount of electricity and thickness of the rubber make a difference. I’d be willing to wear a thin surgical glove and to pick up a plugged-in lamp cord with exposed wiring, but I wouldn’t wear the same glove to pick up exposed live wire which powers the lights at AT&T Stadium.
Few things can make me feel more loved and accepted than a dog, on his own free will, sitting on my lap or resting his head on me. And if I ever need to get up, I’ll never not feel guilty, even though I know all he does is sleep and rest all day.
This is an old clip I saw it for the first time yesterday. Typos be damned – panties and pantries just differ by one letter. But, I wonder if it was a Freudian slip by the typist.