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Monday, August 8, 2011

only the lonely know why I cry

I just ate an ice cream float with ginger ale and ginger ice cream. I expected it to be a slam dunk, but it sort of wasn't. It was okay, but I'd rather have something else.

I have a Twitter follower--I don't know why he follows me, I have no idea who he is--that I thought for sure was a spambot, but John says no, that's just how Evangelicals talk. He says Mormons talk weird, too! Is that true? Is it weird to talk about being divinely inspired to buy aluminum foil? Okay, if you say so. But at least we don't talk about having love affairs with our instruments. Because talk about gross!

Sometimes I wish I knew Ray Bradbury in real life. But then I realize that he would think I am a big dummy and it would be embarrassing.

2 comments:

Jennifer May said...

When do we get to see a picture of you in a hot pink velour sweat suit with sexy written in bling across your butt?

Bamamoma said...

Did I ever tell you that I met Ray Bradbury? Truth! Brad Briscoe and I went to a book signing/discussion once. Do you know Brad? For some reason I think you should (or John should). Anyway, there you have it, you may touch my hand (that shook his) next time I see you.

:)