I'm sorry. You're getting more blog quizzes. Because I've got nothing. Unless you want to hear my whine about my gut. And, yes, I now officially have a gut. It's no longer a pouch, a belly, or even a roll. It's a gut. It forces my my pants down to my hips and rolls itself over my waistband like I'm a 50-year-old, beer-swillin' man.
Or I could tell you the misadventures of lunch, because I'm sure you'd be thrilled to no end to find out that I went to the library to pick up the three books I had on reserve (all graphic novels---and no, I don't mean like that, Bearette, you have a dirty mind---my first foray into that genre) and then I got stuck waiting for the world's longest train to pass by and then I saw a dog that was obviously lost because I don't really think he (?) lives in the middle of the road or even really meant to be there. Another driver managed to shoo him safely to the side of the road but then took off, so I did a u-turn to see if I could get him in my car (I could see that he had tags), but he was gone. I drove around the neighborhood once just to check for him, but he had disappeared and now I feel bad that I didn't react more quickly. I looked again on my way back to work but he was gone.
So instead of all that, I'm giving you more blog quizzes. Sorry.
|Your Monster Profile|
You Feast On: Fried Twinkies
You Lurk Around In: The Empire State Building
You Especially Like to Torment: Hicks
|You Are a Boston Creme Donut|
|You Are Chubby Hubby Ice Cream|
Okay, so that last one? So not funny.