Dear Congressperson, I do not care about your capts, I think you should go trip on something pointy

Mar 09, 2006 17:40

Yesterday, I had gym class with my good buddy Meehan. For the record, she is a girl, but one of my observant teachers frequently calls her Kyle. So anyways, Meehan and I. And gym class. hip hip booo.
So our teacher gave us this sheet, with 16 blanks, and we had to do 16 exercises blah blah blah.
So Meehan and I do the obvious fun things: tossing the medicine ball(granny toss!), throwing the medicine ball(not granny toss!), ring around the rosie with medicine ball, jump rope, tricep curl. or something.
Being the curious pupils we are, Meehan and I ask our teacher if we can do "dancing."
BAHAHAHAHA.
Yes, extreme dancing as we like to call it. Its basically a mix of mc hammer(time), disco dance fever, line dancing, irish step dancing, irish jig, the robot, rave dancing, and possibly moshing.
Twas awesome. Apparently some guy was GOSSIPING about us to his friends. wow. Blondie told me about how she heard two girls were flipping out in gym class. That would be us. Golf clap?
Yeah. So today, I wake up. thats cool. I get out of bed to hit shnooze. Not so cool.
I feel like someone got in a fist fight with my shoulders and left leg.

Took 2 more CAPTs today (CAPTs = Connecticuts Absolutely Stupid Tests). Had fun at lunch though. Got to drink Riptides and smuggle the french frys of Sir Bob the Fountain.

There is nothing interesting else to say. Hopefull I will find a dress that will make me look absolutely smashing. I'll let you know how things roll.

P.S. Before I forget. Paramore is coming. to. CT. AGAIN! I actually want to see them this time.
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