"For sale. Baby shoes. Never worn." Hemingway (supposedly) wrote this 6-word short story to settle a bar bet. The Intarwebs tells me that Hemingway prided himself on this story (it's actually very good). To relieve a little stress and reduce the monotony of my life, I'm going to try to write as many (crappy) six word phrases as possible on my new journal. Unfortunately, the current story is a poop joke. Oh well.

Supposedly by looking at this picture of a dancer twirling, you can tell if you're right or left brained.

I can't get the dancer to go counter-clockwise, no matter how hard I try.