My occupational hazard is my occupation's just not around.
My head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't love Jesus. It's that kind of morning.
I slowly surrender to the child in me who can't say goodbye.
I hate to mention age, but I come from an era when we weren't consumed by technology and television.
It's important to have as much fun as possible while we're here. It balances out the times when the minefield of life explodes.
The cheating was sweet, but my heart is beat. Don't tear it apart, please by-pass this heart.