A businessman entered an elevator, where a cheerful blonde greeted him with, “T-G-I-F.”
Smiling, he replied, “S-H-I-T.”
Confused, she repeated, “T-G-I-F,” slowly.
The man again responded, “S-H-I-T.”
Trying to keep things friendly, she smiled wider and said, “T-G-I-F.”
The man replied once more, “S-H-I-T.”
Finally, the blonde explained, “‘T-G-I-F’ means ‘Thank God, It’s Friday!’ Get it?”
The man answered, “S-H-I-T means ‘Sorry, Honey, It’s Thursday’—duuhhh.”
Judge Calloway looked directly at me and asked what I wanted the court to do after reading the report. Everyone seemed prepared for a simple answer. My…
The reassessment changed nearly everything on paper. The court reviewed years of messages, calendars, school records, medical appointments, photographs, and financial records showing that I had been…
I never sent the sheriff. The foreclosure demand was real, but I did not want the house. I wanted them to spend thirty days knowing I could…
They did not skip it out of contempt. Our father had told the whole extended family that I was marrying beneath myself and that attending would signal…
The night before Clare Whitmore was due to receive a national award for fourteen years of helping women rebuild their lives, her mother-in-law, Patricia, destroyed her $1,400…
The woman holding the garment bag was Denise Parker, one of the first women Clare had helped through Second Chapter House, the nonprofit she had built fourteen…