New contest, folks. Find me a father for my unborn children and WIN! One. Hundred. Dollars.
You think I’m kidding. I’m not. As my 15-year-old self would say, I’m totally cereal. One. Hundred. Dollars. On the day I discover I’m pregnant with my first child by the man you have set me up with, I send you a United States Postal Service money order for a hundred bucks.
Here are my requirements:
- Has a job. Or is independently wealthy. Whatever, I’m just not going to be his sugar mama.
- Makes me laugh. How will you know? You’ve read my blog. I make me laugh.
Do you have a brother, friend, coworker, preacher, or divorced grandfather who wants to have babies with me? Well, chop chop, people. I’m turning 34 on Thursday.
i have a turkey baster and someone who has a job, is funny and thinks you are damn cute . . .