Like all previous New Year's resolutions,

  • Like all previous New Year's resolutions, this one had gone to hell in a handbasket, five ways to Friday, quicker than
  • you can say Jack Robinson. My New Year's resolution had been to stop using catchphrases, but no use crying over spilled milk now. The cat's outta the bag, the proof's in the puddin
  • g. Hey, one in the hand is worth two in the bush. Every dog has its fleas. You can lead a horse to water but you can't--STOP! Stop. Someone must stop me from constantly saying
  • things my Grandma taught me. It'll stick that way. No sense in crying over spilled...!! Grandma, please get out of my head. I tried humming and drinking water upside down. Now I
  • knew i never should have drank her ashes in my coffee!! Was what happened on South Park about to happen to me? Was my Grandmo gonna steal my body?!
  • "No" came the answer. I breathed a sigh of relief, thank god for that. A zombie grandma, no thanks! My eyes widened slowly as I remembered I was supposed to be alone in this room.
  • I looked around quickly. "Who said that!?" I demanded of the room. "It was me..." came a voice. But I still couldn't see anyone. Then I noticed it. A small man standing
  • and facing the corner, away from me. "Who's me?" I asked. No answer, but the little man began walking slowly in place and sort of moaning. The sound sent shivers down my spine.
  • The only thing I could think to do was shoot him with my epi pen. Big mistake. The little moaning man was apparently allergic to epi pens. He collapsed & moaned louder. SH*T! Now
  • I had a raspberry-human looking hybrid on my hands. So I pureed the poor bastard into breakfast jam, filled up all my mason jars, then went back to watch my favorite tv show.


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