
My sweet little baby decided she wanted to have a lemonade stand. We live close to the corner, so I was convinced that with her sweet face and my knock-off brand of powdered lemonade, she’d totally rake in the dough. She sat out in the heat for hours (and not just because I told her to not come home until she recouped my $1.75 investment). No one stopped. Not one single grandmotherly-type figure. I know the economy is bad, but c’mon! She’s cute enough to warrant a 50 cent cup of watered-down lemonade.
I walked to the corner where her little table with the crayon sign was set up and saw the issue: The sisters in the block before ours had their own stand. AND? They had their baby brother strapped in his stroller for curb appeal. Oh hellz no. This would not work. No one steals my baby’s lemonade traffic. We would be back tomorrow, and we would be ready to dominate. Three letters, my friends: P I E. [Read more...]
8. Using your now-broken Cassingle tape of “Footloose” string the tapearound the nearest car just like Danny Zucko in “Greased Lightening”.
7. Dial 867-5309 over and over and over and ask for Jenny.
It’s one thing to be all “I love Beyonce because she’s Oprah rich AND is still someone I can see myself sharing a bottle of wine with”…but now? I’m not so sure. It seems my beloved Sasha Fierce is starting to lose that common touch which she’s always been so proud of.


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