Confessional

Target temptations...
Anytime I'm in Target with chipped toe nail polish, I have to withold the urge to touch up in their cosmetic aisle.

You're a bully man! Just lemme have a piece...
As a child, I remember visiting the local Pamida. They had large bin of candy, perfect for a young person's reach (this was not your mama's cookie jar - this candy was right there, in your face!). Next to the bin was a box, likened to a boring piggy bank, with a sign attached that read "5 cents a sample." That's it - a nickel for a piece of candy; the gummy fruit shapes doused in sugar were my favorite. But sometimes Mom wouldn't allow us to sample the candy. Walking past it I recall wondering how the upper Pamida management ever knew whether the little children were paying or not. My curiosity was never fulfilled. I feared the wrath of my mother too much to test the store's security.

Destined friendship...
I think Rush Limbaugh and I would be good friends. He corrects his own grammatical errors.

Blonde moment...
My sophomore year of college, a friend and I were heading to Bloomington for a movie. While cruising down I-55, I was especially energized by the song on the radio and began honking the horn of my Cutlass Cierra to the beat of the obnoxious tune. My friend suggested that I stop before my car ran out of horn juice. Horrified, I quickly stopped. I had no idea how much it would cost to refill horn juice.

Confession...
I find satisfaction in kicking small dogs. Kick...kick...