I think I'm looking for another low-key weekend. I've had a lot of plans pop out of nowhere in the last couple of days and I've cleared some things off of the schedule due to astronomical levels of stress, but I still haven't really decided what I'm going to do with myself this weekend besides catch up on sleep.
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I'm struggling to remember which updates I've shared here and which I've neglected. Wags got a job. As did Pipes. Woot.
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Project Runway's new season debuted last night and we had a great turnout in the chat room. Mark your calendars for next Thursday! What? You're busy? Make it work. Tim says so.
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I can't stop watching this:
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Dano set a new personal record for the 5k distance in a race last night, as did UltraPal.
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Tweet 'o the week is a dead tie. First contender is this one, where a follower expresses her love for me in interwebspeak and then acknowledges it might be creepy. That pretty much sums up my relationship with Twitter entirely. I love you even though we creep each other out.
Tied with Jim again, who is calling my bluff after hearing rumors that only 40% of the content of my stories is really true. Jim, there are witnesses. The cabnapper's wife, for example. I deserve at least 63%.
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This week, years past:
2009: The ads on this website came down and we marked the last time I did a weekly update that wasn't titled Take No Prisoners
2008: We discussed fake names and BLC/Corky taught me a new insult
2007: A little bit of local news
2006: Duke took me to IKEA for the first time, and also fit his entire head inside of a surgical glove. He's single now, ladies. Form a line.






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