Potboiler.

"Hey Kevin, dude, your dad's on the phone, he wants to know if you want him to pick you up some more Gogurt"

Cloying.

Listening to people like this talk about their art is boring.

Tip-off.

Mimes should definitely travel in packs, it makes so much sense. We should have gotten that hint from the mime looking baseball player gang in Warriors.

Loggia.

I highly recommend every young adult to have a friend they can graze around the mall with making fun of people, mixing vodka in with Orange Julius and talking about how parents just don't understand.

Pavlov.

I wonder what Andy Dick's therapy bill looks like. I bet he goes to a sliding scale clinic.

Acerb.

Sometimes it's kind of fun to have those gimmicky/novelty types around at a party to make everyone laugh with the weird character they created. It's just really really unfortunate when instead of being funny they're not funny, watch that party go sour so fast.

Scrawl.

I think getting my kitten, Dr. Science, declawed was one of the smartest decisions I've made in a while.

Sassafras.

I like being inspired by science, especially when it comes to cocktails. Finding out whiskey and root beer are a fabulous combination and a terrific American summer cocktail. Or my old signature cocktail the "Kelseya go-go" which includes whiskey, grapefruit juice, and a lime slice.

Bereavement.

Gasp! .....
If I remember correctly my friend Tony and I were literally in tears when we found out they were discontinuing Lucky Strike filters in the United States. It was the classic stages of grievance.
1. Denial. We didn't believe the rumors.
2. Pain. This was when we started crying.
3. Anger. This involved a lot of alcohol.
4. Depression. Buying Camels.
5. The Upward Turn. Finding out there was stock at stores left in the outer city limits.
6. Reconstruction. Smoking through our large supply.
7. Acceptance. Smoking Camels again.

So...hand em' over lady. LSMFT.

Muster.

I'm trying to decipher what it worse, collecting mini beard braids or Beanie Babies? Neither have the turnaround profit. Wait, I'm starting to think that a mini beard braids just might sell for more than a Beanie Babies on Ebay? Huh... well, in that case mini beard braid collecting is not as bad as Beanie Baby collecting.

Droll.

Instead of the traditional Cobrasnake photo and commentary on human decorum and behavior, I've decided to just post this. It's absurd and bizarre. The wardrobe complications of the device are obvious. It's hilarity speaks for itself.

Unerringly.

It's simple math: two hands, two drinks. I couldn't have put it better myself.

Biped.

Alright, so this guy might be really fascinating or whatever but, can you imagine having one of those hungover epiphany mornings and this is the first thing you see? Talk about a frightening sociological dilemma to have that early in the day. Terribly alarming.