This makes it sound like I was showing a lot of cleavage, which of course I was not. The match head flew with that perfect one-in-a-million trajectory to land there.I always seem to beat the odds when it involves personal injury.You know how there’s that moment, just after striking a match, when the head ignites and it sounds all sizzly?
And Sam had the nerve to laugh. So I took another match, shoved it down his cleavage, and dared him to light it. CONFRONTING THE OTHER WOMEN IN SAM’S LIFE I’m finally going to meet Sam’s other women. He has hundreds of them, and the rumor is they’re a bunch of cows.Yep, I’m going to Pakistan on Monday. (Did I mention Sam builds dairies in Pakistan?) I’m leaving Monday, which means I’ll actually arrive in Pakistan sometime next year.I think it's 36 hours by plane, so I plan on having Sam club me over the head just after takeoff.I’ve been doing my research, and I hear it’s the new vacay spot for flashy celebrities, so I’m bringing my flowered mu-mu and my camera, in case I run into the Jolie-Pitts trying to steal some kids. But I also plan on laying low - it is, after all, Pakistan - so I’m bringing my trenchcoat to wear over my mu-mu. A cowboy hat will top off the ensemble. And my parasol made out of the American flag. Hopefully, my outbreak of “spontaneous awkward-hug-itis” will have run its course by then. I’ve heard rumors of some sort of cultural divide between our two nations.I will definitely blog from what is literally the other side of the world. Wish me luck! Or as they say in Pakistan, “Auf Wiedersehen, suckahs!”If you’re wondering where I got my cultural savvy, it was from the Internetz of course.
