So I'm back from the pulmonary function test. You sit in a a booth and breathe in and out on a mouthpiece while that shoot all sorts of gasses into your mouth and take measurements. It's kinda like being in a p*o*r*n movie with The Borg.
Last night Boomer and I went to the Fashion Cares media launch where my suspicions were confirmed:
Luchadors (Mexican Wrestlers) are "in". (What's that you say?)
I still don't like martinis.
My boots are not made for walkin' (but they are very cute.)
I could probably put on a better special event than most people.
Bleagh. Feeling dizzy. Must be all the carbon monoxide from the test. I'll go lie down. If I don't wake up, thanks for reading.
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