Man's best friend is much disputed.
Some say dogs for definitely, others say it's Oprah Winfrey.
Which brings up the question of man.
My dad bought this album for me once, or rather he got to pick it out for free at Cash Converters.
Not one to make generalizations, lots of girls can look like boys sometimes.
Like in this movie Connie and Carla I started watching with my mom when I was in the Montreal General a couple of weeks ago. Those girls specifically try to look like boys trying to look like girls. Great idea! If you can't beat 'em join 'em, right?!
Point is, I am man and my best friend is Tia Carrere.
Or so I would have thought on a Wednesday evening that you would probably consider in recent memory and I consider vague at best.
They say I was hit by a car on my bicycle (Tia Carrere), that it wasn't my fault but I probably should have been wearing a helmet. I can't remember it at all, which is probably for the best considering how well Tia and I got along and that she's still in pretty mint condition, from what my dad says.
I would have broken my jaw regardless, and I wish that were not the case but such is life, says my eternally optimistic friend Ayan, fellow jaw-breaker who did the deed in late February under much more exciting circumstances, the icy streets of a Montreal winter.
I've been reading more fashion and trash magazines than usual and smelling more flowers, thanks to everyone awesome enough to have been notified of my whereabouts.
I feel like big upsing everyone, like I graduated from high school or something honourable and have a lot of people to thank but I do!
But you know who you are and I needn't get too corny.
I've been scratching more lotto cards received as gifts and winning about the same amount of double cash for life as usual, which is none but it's really no big deal, all things considered.
I've spent more than my fair share of time in the hospital and grown more than my fair share of armpit and leg hair.
A liquid diet has its downfalls but they say I might be the next Kanye West so I've vowed to curb my dramaticisms and call it a setback that becomes so not a big deal with every day of retrospect.
In that my English is relatively hard to understand with my mouth wired shut, and my French is arguably not perfect as it is, I've been hiding out in Ottawa before assaulting the French with my worse than usual French and Shark Week appearance.
Meanwhile, my sister is having a garden party tommorow and we have a lot of cupcake and punch planning to do.
I hope to be unleashed before my birthday.
I LOVE EVERYONE.
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