I’m baby-sitting my friend’s bearded dragon and I ran out of Barbasol.
My mother claims to have found a leprechaun. She is keeping him captive in the linen closet, and I have to let him out. I suspect it’s the florist again.
I fell off someone’s shoulders in a chicken fight and broke my neck. I’m seeing Chicken and Stars.
The squirrels in my neighborhood have organized, and they are jumping and scratching at my door, like Force 10 from Navarone, trying to absquatulate with my Indian corn.