{chickens brawking and buk-buk-buking just outside the window}
r: Well, Winnie has an appropriate name, at least.
a: Winnie?
r: Yeah, you know, like a horse. A miniature horse.
{loud chicken brawk}
a: what kind of horses did you grow up with?
When the heat index reaches 100+, we take our running to the gym, where Amanda is forced to listen to her own thoughts for the better part of an hour.
Mile 1: I love pharmaceutical commercials. If I take Cialis, my house will fall down around me, I’ll have to search for shelter out in the woods, the only thing I’ll find is a willow tree, and my husband and I will have to sleep in separate bathtubs.
Mile 2: I don’t care how many times you try to tell me otherwise, Fox News, that man is not Bill O’Riley. That is an angry black man. I can only assume he ate Bill O’Riley for dinner, and you’re all trying to cover it up.
Mile 3: Dan Quayle? That guy’s way too young to be Dan Quayle… Oh, that says Ben. Ben Quayle. Huh. He’s got some wicked cheekbones on him. He looks kind of like that actor, Cillian Something. The guy who played Scarecrow. Oh! Ben Quayle is Scarecrow! He’s going to poison the water! WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!
Mile 4: When I get home, I’m going to make a playlist that’s only songs with hand claps. So I can clap along to every song as I run. Oh, and snaps are allowed too. Claps and snaps.
Mile 5: Ow. Ow. Ow ow ow. Owowowowowowowow.
a: oooh, I love this song. I just used my last iTunes money to get it.
r: so, you’re saying you spent your last dollar on a song about being a billionaire?
a: um…. yes
a: All right. I’m off to kill someone with a bungee cord.
r: Whatever gets you through the day. Have fun!
