My mother’s BFF from childhood’s son added me on Facebook a few months ago. I think he is like, 14.
The most vivid memory I have of him comes from a pitstop at his house during family trip when I was 16, he was five or six. I sat at a table with my mom, sister, boyfriend and mom’s pal. He came careening around the corner from the bathroom, demanding his own mother follow him back in there. Apparently he had been… sick. He proudly exclaimed in perpetuum, “IT’S CHUNKY! IT’S CHUNKY!” as he trotted back to the previous room. I laughed so hard and so long I almost vomited.
Now I have to read about him eating Taco Bell at fourth meal time and I am still laughing about his screaming re: texture.
Also, I am a wizard with photo editing in iPhoto, no?
I didn’t so much lose my erection as it crawled up inside my body out of fear.
It numbs me a bit to see how many copies of this book we sell each day. A gaggle of my co-workers have taken it upon themselves to memorize lines from it to bust out at opportune moments. “My inner goddess was incandescent,” and “he wanted to fuck me over the billard table,” are big favorites. A frequent gripe with the latter, one work friend raves, “But, you don’t FUCK someone on a BILLIARD table. You MAKE LOVE on the BILLARD table. You FUCK someone on a POOL table.”
Actually, yeah, there is such a thing as Smiths panties. Thanks, Etsy, for keeping this god-awful manic pixie dreamgirl thing afloat.
Note: This item was the third result when I searched “will smith” in the clothing/handmade section of the site. Please explain.