I got my pet rock when it was just a wee little pebble.
I got my pet rock when it was just a wee little pebble.
Pixel
Pixel Q. refuses to talk about himself. If thou wishest, thou may infer from his blog what thou wishest.
What do you feed a pet rock? Not paper, surely.
What do you feed a pet rock? Not paper, surely. What about scissors?
I taught my pet rock how to play dead.
I taught my pet rock how to play dead. Fetch is proving much more difficult.
My pet rock got rabies.
My pet rock got rabies… I had to put it down.
I don’t like meteor showers, I prefer baths.
I don’t like meteor showers, I prefer baths.
“Hey Lady, how do you know your child isn’t an Adult molester??”
“Hey Lady, how do you know your child isn’t an Adult molester??”
You don’t look fat in those pants, but you sure look jolly! :)
You don’t look fat in those pants, but you sure look jolly! 🙂
a quick note.
Hmm. It seems that playing around with the settings of the new group blog has made me want to fix up this blog a bit. Something about not changing headers or layouts while my life has changed makes it seem…
“It’s okay, it’s not domestic abuse: I’ve never seen this kid before in my life!”?
“It’s okay, it’s not domestic abuse: I’ve never seen this kid before in my life!”?
I’m at the first Duke basketball game of the season and the score is insane to embarrassing.
I’m at the first Duke basketball game of the season and the score is insane to embarrassing.