So I’m not a book blogger, but I am a book-lover and a blogger, which is close enough, right? Also, this tag is too much fun to pass up (thanks Sam for letting me steal it!)
Dean Winchester cruised down the empty highway in his black 1967 Chevy Impala, the notes of Led Zeppelin blasting from the car radio.
“Can you turn that down a bit?” His brother Sam asked from the passenger seat beside him, a laptop in his lap and a leather-bound book whose pages were yellowed with age propped on the dashboard.Read More »
“You hold it like a pencil, Uncle Spencer, like this!” Henry demonstrated where to put his fingers on the chopsticks to his frustrated godfather beside him.
“That’s exactly the problem, Henry, it’s like eating with two number two pencils. It’s completely counterintuitive!” Spencer said, as one of the chopsticks he was struggling to hold fell back to the table with a clink.Read More »
“Hmm, for a kid graduating high school as valedictorian, he sure is lacking in the common-sense department,” he said to his wife, lounging on a chair beside him as they floated on the easy tide.
“The smarts come from my side of the family, the lack of common sense is clearly from you,” his wife teased, splashing him with her foot.Read More »
“Left…left…left, right,” Daniel chanted like a drill sergeant as he and his younger brother diligently pedaled their two-seater bicycle up and down the park trail.
“Shut…shut…shut up,” Derrick mocked. “Man, this is so embarrassing.”
“Damn it.” The grape bounced off the rim of the glass and rolled towards his companion.
“Failed attempt number 541, but hey, lucky number 542, right?”
“Shut up. Just pass it to me.”
His companion turned her gaze to the grape and willed it to somersault through the air, landing with a soft plop on the table in front of him. Read More »
“I can’t believe I’m stuck on this assignment with an idiot,” the red-haired woman holding hands with him fumed under her breath, just loud enough so that he could hear her.
“The feeling is mutual, Shortcake,” he retorted. He drew in a sharp breath when she dug her nails into the palm of his hand in response. “Classy.”
“If you screw this up, I am going to personally kill you.”
He couldn’t help rolling his eyes as he replied, “If I screw this up, we’ll already be dead. Now, claws in, honey, and start acting like my girlfriend.”
Since the day it first opened its doors, the Funky Munky was the place to be for any self-respecting monkey on any given night.
The drinks were acclaimed. Its self-named house drink, The Funky Munky, a sweet and tangy twist on the classic mojito with strawberries, pineapple, and a dusting of banana-flavored salt on the rims, drove the primates, well, appropriately bananas. Read More »
Dean Winchester trudged into the kitchen, glanced at his brother Sam peering at him from the brim of his coffee mug, and did an instant double-take. “What?”
“I don’t like the look on your face.”