I learned something about myself on Sunday:
I don't like cordoroy.
Not that I liked it before, it's just the first time I became conscious of my hatred for it. Because I touched it. I touched it, and it made my fingertips feel like they were gonna shrivel into useless little bags of flesh.
Sunday I also bought the new "Weird Al" Yankovic album and drove around listening to it, giggling. Unfortunately, I missed a page from Trisa, which sucked extremely as I really wanted to hang out with her.
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