The book. Calming object. Held in the hand.
I like cinnamon rolls, but I don't always have time to make a pan. That's why I wish they would sell cinnamon roll incense. After all I'd rather light a stick and have my roommate wake up with false hopes.
I think we all agreed to take a bunch of Xanax at some point.
This guitar is such a pal. It's a psychiatrist. It's a doggone bartender. It's a housewife. This guy is everything. Whenever I find that I've got a problem, I'll go pick my guitar up and play. It's the greatest pal in the whole world.
Alcohol is perfect for me to curb the nerves a little bit.
I'm making tapes for insomniacs to use in the future. I'm going to sell them as a kit to cure insomnia.
I used to record 'Futurama' episodes on my cassette player and play it to help me go to sleep.
He looked at the box with interest. 'Well, well. Five speeds. Heat and massage. Deep, penetrating action. Sure this isn't yours?
