(no subject)
"Oh Dad, Poor Dad" stole the town's heart for three weekends. then it ended. Sam, Ho-ahhh-nna and myself enjoyed some quality time of varying degrees of actual quality. I have one majr event planned for tomorrow: a certain pool party with a certain special someone. I won't be swimming. I got to keep the plant head which i worked everso diligently upon for a grueling three seconds(not the point), but doubt it will be put to much use. Surprisingly enough, I have no place to put it. except in the trash can. or my parents' bedroom. And, finally:
LANCE ARMSTRONG WON THE TOUR DE FRANCE FOR THE SEVENTH YEAR IN A ROW,
which finally proves it: Lance can ride a bike. People can stop wearing his little motto on rubberbands. we get it. he had to have chemo. lots and lots of chemo. like every other damn person who's ever had cancer. good job on not being dead. idiot.
LANCE ARMSTRONG WON THE TOUR DE FRANCE FOR THE SEVENTH YEAR IN A ROW,
which finally proves it: Lance can ride a bike. People can stop wearing his little motto on rubberbands. we get it. he had to have chemo. lots and lots of chemo. like every other damn person who's ever had cancer. good job on not being dead. idiot.