It was a weekend of true crime investigation shows on Investigation Discovery.
It makes me a little nervous how these shows teach people how to cover their homicidal tracks and, certainly, for kids who may be wondering how to fake their own suicides, it gives a bit of a blueprint, but I suppose these crimes have been going on for much longer than the dawn of high-def TV, so I shouldn’t be too concerned. Or should I be? NFL football starts soon, thank goodness. Much less nerve-wracking.
The massage: it wasn’t me. Being younger than 18, Jordan got a female masseuse. I got a very nice, young boy from New Orleans. Touching on me. Which was a little weird. Maybe I’m not cut out for certain sections of luxury living. Like strangers touching on me. Jordan, on the other hand, is trying to work bi-weekly sessions into her allowance-led budget. Which won’t be happening, but perhaps before she turns 80, she can treat herself to another one.
I’m thinking of throwing a bedroom-cleaning party. Bring your own hazmat suit in comments…
Sorry the massage didn’t work out as you had hoped. Was this your first time? Do you think you could have gotten into it and been more comfortable had it been a woman “Touching on you”? Also the whole “…on you” tripped me up. Didn’t expect such a phrase/sentence from you.
Why don’t you get yourself a nice pedicure and a make up event for the poor massage experience.
Orion is dying for you to read I believe This is Yours
Actually, it turned out exactly as I’d expected. I’m not big on strangers touching me. I’ll get Jordan a mani/pedi in time for school; my days of paying people to make me look cute are nearing the end. Wool socks and flannel jammies will just about do it.
Bedroom excavations can be dangerous. Be sure to leave a will behind somewhere just in case the monsters from under the bed catch you.
Voix is dying for you to read Pardon My French is a hit!
I leave all my junk to Waste Management. How’s that?
That bed looks like it’s a mile long, don’t cha think? Perfect for a spaghetti noodle.
I just cleaned my room last week…hoed out, washed, painted and junk. It sucked. So forgive me if I pass on the wonderful opportunity to join the party.
Christine is dying for you to read Why can’t you sleep
At second glance, probably two spaghetti noodles. Or maybe a fat linguini.
Christine is dying for you to read Why can’t you sleep