thoughtbubble
Monkey bread. The very thoughteth maketheth my soul jumpeth with delighteth. Or something.
I have to get married. Before Christmas. And my husband may NOT like monkey bread.

Because:
It is possible that my Aunt Debbie Joe will make every family in the family a monkey bread. She makes the absolute best monkey bread. But I want my own monkey bread.
For me.
And myself.
And I.

So I'll get married.

It's all quite logical.


But then, Kendra said she was going to go marry a philanthropist, and pay off a sixth of the National Debt. Except for she probably wouldn't even marry him, she would just go meet him, and since he's a philanthropist, he would give her the money anyway.

Great. Now I'm starting to feel convicted.
If she got married to a philanthropist, it would be for a good cause in helping our nation.

Hmm.
Well, okay.
You can have a pinch of monkey bread.
A SMALL pinch.