Rainnboots' Radical Ramblings

disembodied-reggae-space-voice asked: Odds!

One. Well, I try really hard not to regret any of my choices, but one time I stole a pen from a Catholic church and all the saints were staring down at me from their perches up on the ceiling and I still feel like my soul is cracked because of it.

Three. George Clooney.

Five. Probably macaroni & cheese. Or apples.

Seven. I honestly don’t think I hate anyone.

Nine. Breakaway pants, the ability to hip-hop dance, the ability to whistle in tune.

Eleven. Well, there is the fact that he doesn’t exist…

Thirteen. Oh gosh. Um. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban is the first one that comes to mind.

Fifteen. Wait, what?

Seventeen. See a Beatles concert. Meet the great-grandfathers and great-uncles I never knew. Hold baby Jesus.

Nineteen. A motorcycle, some TOMS, put the rest away for later.

Twenty-one. I don’t like picking favorites.

Twenty-three. How close-minded we all can be.

Twenty-five. In want of a banana split, but otherwise content.