Stolen, Stolen ...
Loneliness: the state of imagining there is no one out there with whom you can connect
Traffic: Conceptually impossible. In theory, anything that wants to move should be in movement so why are those things, which are willfully acting upon a desire, not moving?
Chaos: An almost grown German Shepard that lives with my relations and does not respond to to sit or stay but phrases like what do you do?
Burp: That thing which I do not do. Seriously. I make a noise and people think it's a sneeze. I am happy to let them assume as much.
500: Miles. And I would walk 500 miles and I would walk 500 more just to be the man that walked a thousand miles to fall down at your door ...
Movie: magic
Coma: tose
Bark: health food
Stare: if this is a contest I lose instantly. I've never cared for that game.
Angelina: proof that I'm not the only woman condemmed to have twins should I wind up preggers -- How does 21 sets of twins and 1 set of triplets in three generations sound to you Angelina? Sounds like I'm screwed frankly.
