Joyce! The Jolly Roger, please.
May I have your attention? [ahem] I need to pimp a couple of people out for a minute. First of all, my beloved Kimmy, who just started a diary a few days ago, and I am so pleased. I'm waiting, though, for her to start dropping hints of her inner evil, because so far she's showing her sweet and nice side, but where is the girl with whom I have hated so many? I mean, never have so few hated so many with so much joy and laughter. I adore Kimmy, and you should too.
Next, that rat bastard, Miles. Miles is a great guy and one of my favorite people, but he quit writing his blog a few months ago, except that he didn't totally quit and recently he's been writing in it a lot. Why does this anger me, you might ask? Well, it's because HE DIDN'T TELL ME HE WAS WRITING AGAIN, and that is not acceptable. We are officially in a fight.
I wonder what would happen if an Olympic gold medal winner declined to parade around draped in their country's flag after winning the gold medal. What if they instead dragged a Jolly Roger around during the victory lap, or the United Nations flag? Do you think all hell would break loose? Because I think it might, and I have to say, I'd like to see that.
Slept more and better last night--went to bed earlier (we were in bed before 9:30, which is sort of pathetic, but we needed it) and only laid awake for an hour or so, from 2-ish to 3-ish. Still, when the alarm went off at 5:30, I announced that I was not getting up, and Francisco didn't get up either--we didn't roll out until 6:40, which is a much kinder and gentler time to be awake.
Eh, I've got nothing. I've actually been Working today (can you beLIEve it?) so that's something, at least.
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