Carl...
I got Carl back.
Details to follow.
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He's navy blue, fully loaded, dead sexy, and sometimes, if I listen real close, he whispers sweet nothings in my ear...
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In order to cleanse all of our minds of memories from my past few posts, here is a little something that should brainwash you.
*Begin*
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This, my friends, is what Valentine's Day should be about...
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Last night while on the phone with mema at approximately 11:30 pm, I said something.
Something that I now know was foreshadowing.
I said:
"Nobody can hit my car where I'm parked! Even if we get a boatlod of snow, I'm good because nobody can hit me."
*Cue ominous music*
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So far, no snow.. All is clear.
Over and Out.
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I bring to you a new weekly installment.
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Picture it:
It was a blustery day.
There was snow everywhere.
About 4 inches of it was resting peacefully and undisturbed on my car.
I am getting ready for work.
I decide that I should clean the car off before I dry my hair.
I go out in a pair of fleece pants, no bra, a hoodie, and a coat.
Armed with car keys and a heavy duty scraper, I begin the tedious task of brushing/scraping Carl.
Once task is complete, I replace scraper, lock the car door, and proceed to shuffle towards my front door.
Notsomuch.
Instead of making it safely to the warmth of my apartment, I end up somehow laying tits up in the middle of the street.
I had slipped on a patch of invisible ice.
My legs went out from under me, my arms flail, and I land on my tailbone.
The vision you are undoubtedly picturing is not unlike that of a baby giraffe taking its first steps.
I lay in the middle of the street for a few more moments before somewhat hurridly picking my frail and battered 87 year old body off the road.
I shuffle to the door in agony.
I complete the drying of my hair, all the while cursing like a trucker.
My back still hurts like hell today.
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And yes, I wear the unitard.
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