(You can do this, too. Just go to Google and type in your name followed by the word "is", "wants", "loves", "likes", etc. [Just leave out the quotation marks.])
Kristin wants you to buy Bongo jeans. Sure I do. Because I'm not just a person who wears Bongo jeans, I'm the President of the company.
Kristin wants to be a "somebody." I am a somebody. Just a relatively unknown somebody.
Kristin loves to burst out into dance. Yep, just like ol' Napoleon Dynamite. I've got canned heat in my feet tonight, baby.
Kristin is the new Bongo girl. Did I mention, I'm also the President of the company?
Kristin wants to be a part of the King Arthur's round table. Ya know, not so much. I find that the armor really chafes.
Kristin wants to run away and hide from the much more demanding world. Okay, who's been reading my mind again?
Kristin loves holding babies. Then I love handing them back to their mommas. I am gonna make an awesome grandmother.
Kristin is an accomplished drummer, singer, and banjo player. And I'm working on the yodelling.
Kristin wants to contribute something positive and loving to the world. Like worldwide domination and unlimited donuts for all.
Kristin wants to look like Jessica. I don't even know Jessica, but if she's skinny then yeah, I wanna look like her.
Kristin loves to bang. A drum, you dirty minded people!
Kristin wants consumers to think about where fur and fur trim come from before they go on shopping sprees. It comes from animals that we rednecks shoot on cold November mornings. Now you know. Quit thinking and go shopping, ya tree hugger.
Kristin loves to scrapbook. No I don't and I don't know who keeps telling y'all that nonsense!
Kristin wants us to continue blogging. Of course, I do. Because blogging makes the world go 'round.
Kristin is now OPEN for business. But I ain't cheap. Bring your credit cards.
Kristin wants a pair of upholstered seats and some pre-cut carpeting. Because I'm planning on taking over the world and it all begins with the upholstered seats.....
Kristin loves teaching meditation, writing and being a mom. Sometimes.
Kristin is dating Adam "DJ AM" Goldstein in order to get back at Nicole Richie. Because she is just too skinny and everyone knows that DJ AM likes his girls with meat on their bones.
Kristin wants a new car. Actually a van, please. My Astro is on its last leg. Um, wheel.
Kristin wants to teach math at the junior high level, just to "watch the light bulb come on" for her students. I'm sorry, you must have me confused with someone who doesn't cry when the word "math" is uttered.
Kristin is set to star as a sorority girl in the upcoming remake of Revenge of the Nerds. Ya know, if it said I was playing a nerd, I could totally see that. But sorority girl? Only if Geek Squad has a sorority now.
Kristin wants to know why life is not fair. I learned a long time ago that it isn't, now I just want to know why.
Kristin is annoying and untalented. In my defense, I've been a work-at-home mom for most of my adult life. I have an excuse.
Kristin wants to know whether you want some red chili peppers on your watermelon now, or later. If I were you, I'd choose "later" and then run for the hills. That ain't right, people.
Kristin is a rich, triumphant mean girl, the stuff '80s soap operas were made of. My life's goal has been achieved.
Kristin is demanding. Duh. Now, click on the comment button and comment. NOW.
I was born a semi-diva. I married a redneck. Through the magic of osmosis or just because of a serious lack of sophistication over the years I have found a balance of the two that make me who I am today. And then I write about it all, much to the chagrin of my mother.
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3 comments:
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
I laughed out loud at the breast-playing thingy. Funny you should do this. Only two days ago, I was googling 'Hillbilly Mom is...'
But it was just a bunch of stuff like I got before. Nothing as good as yours. I'll have to try the 'Hillbilly Mom loves...' and see what nasty habits I have acquired.
All the pages that come up on searches about me are already on my blog... so I guess I already wrote that post. More or less.
By Googling "Ann is," I actually found a site called ANN IS TO BLAME. Someone is mad because she sprayed TIM'S sweater with a perfume called "REEKS OF HELL."
I swear. Ann and Tim. And Ann is to blame.
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