Some mornings, I just want to run off to Hollywood and spend my days auditioning for all the casting calls that say “Hulking Thug” or “Giant Redneck” or “Very Large Viking”. There’s got to be a lot of those, right?
I have a problem with buying Beverly Cleary books on clearance for my kids. I cant help myself. But if giving a kid a tattered old copy of Runaway Ralph is wrong, then I don’t want to be right.