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Tired Words (Part Two)

For the whole day I walked around thinking his name was GEORGE Letterman because I couldn’t, for the life of me, remember his real name.

“I think I have a brain tumor,” I told my husband.

“No, you’re just tired,” he said. “I still can’t think of the name of that thing that floats—”

“A floatation device?” I volunteered.

“No.”

“Lilypad?”

“No. It’s kind of like a tent?”

“A boat?”

“No. It’s made out of the same material as a tent.”

After TEN MORE MINUTES of this, we finally arrived at the word Raft.

Motherfucking raft.

We need sleep.

363 Responses

  1. Kelly M.

    OK, this is my favorite post.

  2. Barbara L.

    Hahahaha!

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