Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Baby Hair. With a Woman's Eyes.

 I do feel sorry for my daughters. It must be hard to have me for their mom. When they were about 8 and 9, I overheard them talking about me and it went like this, "It's not like she's stupid, it's just that she's..."


"Yeah. That's it. She's just really spacey."

In my own defense, my brain doesn't always work like everyone else's, and most of the time I'm living in my own, little, world, and for your information, my own little world is wonderful. Anyway, the other day I was driving and trying to think of the movie I wanted to borrow from Coadster. The actual name was "Forgetting Sarah Marshall", but for some reason, my brain got it confused with "Saving Silverman" and turned it into "Saving Sarah Silverman". It's a damn good thing I caught myself, before I asked her for that...Although, I would be interested to watch the imaginary movie I thought up, just to see in what ways Sarah Silverman might be saved.

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