All these Fast Five TV promos made me want to go drifting around the block. Sadly, once I get buckled in, it's lights out on this Fast and Flufferious sequel.
One of my daddies sent some of my pictures to a lovely artist lady and she did these two paintings. Now that my daddy bought them, I'll have to look at myself more than I usually do. The world needs more Jacksons anyway.
The key to faking out the parents is the clammy paws. It's a good non-specific symptom; I'm a big believer in it. You fake a stomach cramp, and when you're bent over, moaning and wailing, you lick your paws. It's a little childish and stupid, but then, so is daddy's workplace.
It was one of those days when it's a minute away from snowing and there's this electricity in the air, you can almost hear it. And this ribbon was, like, dancing with me. Like a little kid begging me to play with it. For fifteen minutes I chewed on it. But now I wear it.