Everyone makes fun of people who say their kids’ age in months. “Our sweet son is named Thermometer and he’s 28 months old.” Once a girl said her dog was 17 months old. Everyone hates it. Not us, we respect it. Sometimes I forget how old I am in YEARS, let alone months. Most of the time, we can’t remember what day of the week it is, let alone the age of a Corgi in months. In conclusion, don’t name your son Thermometer.
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Is anyone else just eating whatever they want and telling themselves, “Once the gyms open up, that’s when it changes”? Anyone else? Like, WHAT IF a full box of brown sugar frosted Pop-Tarts is the cure for Coronavirus? It may not be, but Pop-Tarts is a more reasonable cure than bleach.
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Is this quarantine making anyone else want to jump on a trampoline? Or shave their back hair into a mohawk? Or throw something at the TV every time a commercial says “we’re all in this together?” Or pretend the floor is lava and eat string cheese? Anybody? Cool cool cool. PLEASE FOLLOW @LAMEBOOK ON INSTAGRAM!
Glad we’re not doing handshakes anymore. We were always like Goldilocks – too hard, or too soft, or just too sweaty. Not a fan of the new “foot bump” greeting though. You know those guys who have a couple drinks and shake your hand way too hard? Imagine that guy drunk guy coming in and round-housing you to the ground as a ‘hello.’ PLEASE DISABLE YOUR ADBLOCKER OR WHITELIST US! IT MEANS A LOT!
