There's something very sad about being locked in a bike shop on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. The basketball announcer on TV keeps shouting about "ball movement." Man, basketball is a stupid sport. The upshot is my hangover is slowly subsiding thanks to a large amount of coffee.
Facebook offers little entertainment. It turns out my friends are fans of black holes.
My bike sits sad and alone in my dark living room.
Tom keeps asking me about the Communist Manifesto, which is and odd feature of the day.
ok ok. I'm sorry. It's not all bad. I don't mean to dump on you.
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