Hefley, You’re Going Down

Categories: Picklings |

It’s Sunday, and we’ve retreated to our underused upstairs in an attempt to escape the deafening sounds of construction taking place in our bathroom.  The indomitable is typing away on his laptop, working on something important and profitable.  I’m just sitting in the freakishly expensive massage chair that he bought when he was single with lots of money to burn and reading celebrity news on MSN’s site.  Once all the construction is done, I’m gonna nest like a determined waterfowl.  And when that day finally comes, I’m not going to be the lazy looking one.



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