I can't cook. This is not entirely my fault, however. My nana is the queen of all things edible. She, in an honest effort to pull me from subsisting largely on cereal and easy-mac, tried on many an occasion to teach me to cook. But this never really panned out. I'd request to make a certain dish only to find that the tried-and-true recipe was crossed out, replaced, and re-written in a barely legible hand. She would add a dash, change a measurement or delete an ingredient all together at a whim; and every time, the dish would come out perfectly. This generally infuriates me, "Throwing" a dish together is not something I'm familiar with. I've tried this in the past to dismal results, the delicious concoction turning inedible and deadly by my novice hand.
After some lengthy discussion with myself, I've decided that I am going to add to the super-trendy string of ultra-frivolous lawsuits by suing Brad Paisley. Why? You may be asking your silent monitor, he seems like such a great guy! While I can't deny nor confirm this, in my opinion he seems like a dude I could hang out with, I do have a motive for my money-making endeavors. You see, Mr. Paisley filled my little head chock-full of grandiose delusions with his songs of life in back-woods America. Hence, I'll be suing him for false advertisement in the first degree. I'm not entirely sure if there are degrees when it comes to this kind of outlandish claim but since murder and embezzlement can be leveled, then so can this one!
First, give me a chance to dispel some of the gossip that has been circulating. No, friends, I am not best friends with Chuck Norris, although it would be incredible if I were. Also, it is completely unverified that I was the one who lived amongst a pride of lions for three years. While I do have a scar that slightly resembles a lion claw across my face; it was not me. Finally, I did not kill a polar bear with my bare hands. This notion is completely impossible, as a polar bear is a massive, white angry ball of man-killing fur. I hate to disappoint those thrill seekers of my fellowship, no I did not get that bear with my hands, it was with my feet.
Now to the stuff that you all came here for; the truth.
The Writing huntress
I hunt. I write. I wear what some consider an unnecessary amount of camouflage face paint.