I’ve learned I definitely cannot keep up with how I used to attack Sunday Funday as a 25-year-old. I was the one always ordering more rounds of mimosas and now I cringe at the thought of my taste buds being destroyed by the overwhelming flavor of orange juice for 2 days afterward. Def have to cut Funday off around 4 pm if I don’t want to be hungover the next day.
I love Labs and Goldens but I’ve always had small dogs. My mom has a Yorkie now and he, while having some halitosis issues, is a sweet little guy and a good cuddler.
“Todd, it’s like you WANT me to not find inner peace and clarity while you’re off doing horse stuff at the Derby! Is that what you want, TODD?” That’s how that conversation would end.
I usually have to remind myself of this a lot. I’m in the same boat – have a lot going for me, just haven’t found a significant relationship yet and often wonder whether I’ll die alone, etc. In the meantime, it’s pretty sweet to decorate my house however I want, make unilateral decisions about the grocery list, and hang with my dog all weekend if my heart so desires.
My hungover Sundays consist of making it to the sofa and alternately napping and vomiting. Showering and leaving the house at all are out of the question until about 4 pm.
Advertise
Just tell me where da gold’s at and I’ll be on my merry way.
No problem. It never fails to make me laugh. Plus that was in my hometown so it’s a weird source of pride.
Knew she’d get there and instantly hate it. I half expected her to be late as well.
Respectfully disagree. I like the look of a man in a well-fitting button down and some dark wash jeans. I usually don’t pay attention to the shoes.
I’m afraid that’s your cross to bear, Jesus.
Next TGDAG: Host a Dinner Party. Catered by Crust, Chop, and Ginger.
A dinner party sounds fun to me but my friends and I haven’t gotten to that point yet.
I’ve learned I definitely cannot keep up with how I used to attack Sunday Funday as a 25-year-old. I was the one always ordering more rounds of mimosas and now I cringe at the thought of my taste buds being destroyed by the overwhelming flavor of orange juice for 2 days afterward. Def have to cut Funday off around 4 pm if I don’t want to be hungover the next day.
I love Labs and Goldens but I’ve always had small dogs. My mom has a Yorkie now and he, while having some halitosis issues, is a sweet little guy and a good cuddler.
I just assumed both of them are cheap dirtbags but I never gave it this level of analysis. Enjoyed reading this and I hope it becomes a feature.
I hope to God Todd would actually say that out loud to her but, as we all know….he wouldn’t. Or he would and would instantly regret it.
“Todd, it’s like you WANT me to not find inner peace and clarity while you’re off doing horse stuff at the Derby! Is that what you want, TODD?” That’s how that conversation would end.
Single and turning 30 in the next month, this gave me the Scaries.
“moo moo for a fat face” almost made me spit out my coffee onto my keyboard.
Excuse you, she works like twice at a week at lulu, obvi.
Girl lives like she’s a Real Housewife without the Bravo camera crew. And before the inevitable fraud and foreclosure legal troubles.
I usually have to remind myself of this a lot. I’m in the same boat – have a lot going for me, just haven’t found a significant relationship yet and often wonder whether I’ll die alone, etc. In the meantime, it’s pretty sweet to decorate my house however I want, make unilateral decisions about the grocery list, and hang with my dog all weekend if my heart so desires.
I know I read too much PGP when I saw “eight month old labradoodle” and immediately thought of Sperry.
Congrats on the date! I didn’t think that text was going that way when it opened about being blunt with you.
Giant can of Folgers for coffee at home, Starbucks or similar when I’m out and about. Don’t care who makes it, just give me caffeine dammit.
My hungover Sundays consist of making it to the sofa and alternately napping and vomiting. Showering and leaving the house at all are out of the question until about 4 pm.
I’m guessing it was one of those places where everything is a la carte, the salad is enough to feed a family of four and the baked potato costs $12.