- I just spent a ridiculous amount of time googling (not to be mistaken with ogling) Trent Edwards in search of a specific picture to share with you guys. I never found it. I enjoyed looking.
- My search of Trent Edwards turned up this picture. I have no answers.
- I have already confessed my love of the Jonas Brothers, but apparently I'm not alone. For the second time in a year they are debuting an album at #1 on the Billboard charts. I helped get them there. That's right. I bought Lines, Vines and Trying Times. I told you I loved them.
- Yes, I realize that most of the other people who helped get the Jonas to #1 are under 14 years old. Whatever, Homegirl understands me.
- Ever since Dione confessed that she had a Rootbeer float for breakfast one morning I've considered doing the same thing on several occasions. I just never seem to have any root beer in the house...
- Today I received and e-mail that included the line, "So he farts. In his own face." Need I say more?
- I've considered posting before and after pictures of the rooms in my house as I de-clutter them. The only reason I haven't is because I'm so mortified by how much crap I've kept laying around this tiny house. Seriously we've more than half-filled our 5x10 storage unit and donated like 1o-20 garbage bags full of stuff to the Goodwill already.
- That's not really my house. My house didn't look that bad...my junk was more organized. (also not my house.)
- My cousin, Butter and I determined that our overwhelming awesomeness is a genetic trait. You may marvel if you like, but don't stare. It's rude.
- The names I use on this blog are childhood nicknames. Except for Homegirl, I just did that because I'm evil.
- My whole family has become obsessed with True Blood. It's really not that good but there is something strangely addictive about it. Maybe it's Jason Stackhouse...
All right I can't think of a better way to end a confessions blog then with a picture of a shirtless Ryan Kwanten unless, of course, it's with comments of your own confessions.
3 comments:
I feel the need to confess: Just this morning I had Snickerdoodles for breakfast. Now, I don't normally eat cookies (or rootbeer floats) for breakfast, but if they're there...
Rootbeer is a Utah thing. You can always get rootbeer in Utah. My husband brought rootbeer for a shindig at his new job here in NM and his co-workers were so excited they went out and bought vanilla icecream. The next day there was still some rootbeer so they went out and bought more vanilla icecream. Now they call my husband rootbeer man. He likes his new title.
I purposefully did not take before shots of my house while moving. I have too much pride. But when I buy a new card reader I'll post the after shots.
And finally, I must confess, I feel left out and un-mysterious without a childhood nickname.
Missy, You were hoping that I would confess to looking at that "new" picture of your QB and saying, "How YOU doing?" Weren't you?
Confession: I watched 3 episodes in a row of True Blood last night and ate half a bag of potato chips while I did. It's a lame confession, but I can't think of a better one. Do I even have secrets? ... Don't answer that.
Dione, you should have a nickname. Um... I have thousands for my younger son. Want one of his? Rain? Bean? Peanut? Goose? Actually, I was Goosie as a child, I think, as well as Punk. You're welcome to it, if you like. If not, I'll keep thinking... hmmm...
Henceforth, Dione will be known as Snickerdoodle. I have declared it so.
I'll let God know it should go in the Bible.
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