And even though I’m far from what many folks would consider a “good” runner, I’m a consistent one.
I love how the more I have tried to learn about him as a person, the more mysterious he became to me. He’s taught me that the art should be more interesting than the artist.
Sometimes humans there poop outside, but don’t have moms to pick it up. Like you guys aren’t gross enough without fur suits.
The worst lies are the ones we tell ourselves.
Don't say, "Dick," or "dickhead," but rather use the formal, "Richard."
I negotiated with that god. “Give the kids food and I’ll memorize verses. I’ll read something from your book every night and try to be a good kid.”
Coincidentally, my Man Friend drives a Ford Mustang and lets Joey ride along. Just another reason he’s the best.
The drama was what happened not long after we finished our run, so it’s more of a classic tale of a white person having to insert herself into the narrative.
I will admit to being jealous of her fully-formed poops when I took her out for potty breaks.
I used to believe all the nonsense I was told about even playing fields and Davids beating Goliaths.
He stopped a few feet to my right and I heard a low growl.
Joey wasn't the only musical dog--we saw a Haggard and I'm sure we missed a Dylan. There's always a Dylan.
It’s a reminder that physical age is not a reflection on maturity. The senior citizens I grew up around experienced the Great Depression, shared wisdom willingly, or were fabulous storytellers.
A thousand cinnamon roll and steel bikini jokes later, my Princess was gone.
Joey had to stay in the van, as there were chickens running around everywhere and as educational as it would have been, the children there may not be ready to see where nuggets come from.
I didn't bother to voice my opinion that Joey is part cat and would always land on her feet.
Are we the spoiled brats of democracy? Is this where the experiment fails? Is this my Tyler Durden moment?
As she took her last breath, I collapsed on her body and wailed. I have never heard sounds like that come out of my body. It was the most raw, uncontrollable emotional reaction of my life.
I like to think that for every obnoxious fool, there are thousands of us living more quiet, happy lives that have a sense of purpose.
“You train for endurance,” he responded, “you don’t train for speed.”