We Gonna Party Like It’s Nineteen Ninety Six
Zach posted that blogging is en passé. I disagree, despite the sudden lack of updates from the blogs that I read last summer or the summer before. Wait: I exempt Kassie and CJ, who post about food, buses, and tearing down their house from the inside out.
Nonetheless, two people alone can’t keep up with my voracious desire for the minutiae of other people’s lives. At least Jim finally took a break from his whole “politics and bikes” theme to post about something worthwhile, like moustaches. Maybe when Lisa gets back she will post a bunch about how much better Hawaii was than Minnesota.
“There was this thing in the sky that was a source of heat and light all day long!” she would exclaim.
“Wow. Thank you so much for rubbing it in,” I would reply dryly.
“I’m elevens about the sun!” she would beam.
“That’s not even your word!”
Well, this is no place for hasty accusations.
Today’s urban dictionary word of the day: blogorrhea.
Right.
Sorry.
Actually, the sun was about a 7. At times it was only mildly warm. I actually had to use my sweater.
The snorkeling though, that was ELEVENS!
even you’re slippin dude, there hasnt been a scatological remark or the meerest hint of your bashed and battered heart for gee, well, ok forget the second part, but your ass-in-cheek quotient is like negative infinity