What Would Karl Do?
I'm beginning to think of it more as What Would Karl NOT Do.
(SHOUTOUT: D got an interview at NOVA, for pharmacy school. She's gonna be rich, baby! Golf clap, everyone. Oh shiz, who am I kidding--if you spot her, GIVE HER A GIANT HUG!!!2112234611!!!!!)
I adore Paris. Who wouldn't? I've heard people say they don't like it much because they think it's dirty. Every large-ish city is dirty, but if I had to pick the city that I thought was the least dirty, I'd pick Paris. Last night while I was dutifully running on the treadmill at the gym, I was thinking weird thoughts. I came to the conclusion that:
London makes you feel so flippin' cool.
Paris makes you feel glamourous.
& Ireland makes you feel drunk. Oh wait, you ARE drunk.
Yeah, weird, thanks. The treadmill is boring. And I don't even want to mention the crazy rap shit I was listening to. WOW. Okay, this babble has gone on long enough. Au revoir, b'cakes. OR SAYONARA.