OK, I'm spilling the beans. Baring my soul. Filling up blog space. And so on. Are you ready? Are you sure?
Well, OK then.
I confess...I disregard the expiration date on egg cartons. Like, always. The Hubs and I eat the eggs in the carton until they're all gone. And amazingly, we've lived to tell the tale. Isn't that eggscellent? [Sorry. Couldn't resist.] Strangely though, I would never drink expired milk. Go figure.
I confess...I have never watched Glee. [Insert the gasp heard round the world here.] I'm not sure if this means that I'm just so highly evolved and enlightened that my intellect is in incapable of rationalizing or enjoying this type of entertainment...or if it means that I'm just lame.
I confess...I want a piece of the rock. Not this one:
Yeah, tempting...but not this one either.
I mean, this one.
I'd just like to point out that I don't typically find myself attracted to lusciously muscle-bound men. And I'm not particularly fond of tattoos. But there is just something about Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson.
That tough exterior.
The wry smile.
The piercing gaze.
Have. Mercy.
I confess...that I might be ever so slightly over-infatuated with The Rock. Maybe just a smidge. What? You say "obsession" likes it's a bad thing. But at least I'm not stalking him. Give me some credit.
Have a good weekend, y'all.
