Oh god still 81 more entries to go.
Ive been thinking. not about much really, but thinking. thoughts. Yep.
Lots of thinking.
Actually I cant pin point anything that Ive been thinking, so even that is kind of lame. Theres no rant here and no whining. Mayhaps Ill shake things up a bit and write a poem about a croissant.
It shall be called: There is a croissant in my pants.
Ahem
There is a croissant in my pants
I do not mean my penis
honest to god an actual croissant
all flaky and french
shaped like a crab
my god this is all euphimisms for STDS
I dont have an std
its a croissant
the kind one gets from france
Or a supermarket bakery
plain and dry
no melted cheese or ham
just a croissant
in my pants.
How did it get there
I can not fathom
nor can i recall
I just looked down
and saw a croissant
in my pants
It looks delicious
but i know where its been
do i dare take the chance
a croissant from the pants
cant be very satisfying
Should I leave it in my pants?
Would anyone else notice?
How long has it been down there
anyway
Its probably best to remove it
the croissant from my pants
people are starting to stare
of all the times
for this to happen
why did it have to be my wedding?
there is a croissant in my pants.
Well that killed 5 minutes. Wheee.
