Sometimes, the utterly retarded perfection of my weekends baffle me. I mean, cuz it doesn't happen often. My mom was freakishly lenient this weekend. It was perfecto.
On saturday Mark and I drove to Hollywood to see Lucero play. We stopped at places so Marky Poo could ride his bike. And then I tired to ride down like 50 stairs (ya fifty) and my
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Glad you had a fantastical time.
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