24 March 2010
Help me, please. Give me a home in Zoo World. Or Farmville. Anywhere I don't have to work for a living. Go ahead, milk me. I don't even care.
I'm the dog that ate your birthday cake. It's a wonderful life.
Speaking of food, anyone ever work in a pickle factory? I want to know what they call the last, hacked-up pickle that they slash to a rough size to fill the final gap in the jar. Really. I want to know that.
Am I the only person who looks at my pets occasionally and sizes t...
Published on March 24, 2010 13:28