I wrote a whole... word...... zzzzzzzzz.......
I can see my house from... everywhere.
In other news, the world of "breathing" continues. Twice daily, I breathe in a powdery substance that tastes like dry spaghetti, and it keeps my lungs in the working order they never really were. I may never run a five minute mile, but at least I can walk a 35 minute mile without coughing up a malfunctioning lung.
I blame the groundhog.
You know where this is going.
It may be clean, but I'd like to leave the kitchen occasionally.
You'd think I'd get tired of waffles on Saturday mornings?
Uncle Sam needs waffles!