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. . . . Sometimes I wonder if the guys on my floor are from the same species as the bestby. I'm currently hiding out in my room because there is a poster of a lady in a bikini on one of the guys doors, and the door is always open, and I've told them how disgusting that is but they just ignore me when I speak of the lady poster, so I thought I'd take matters into my own hands and duct tape some clothing onto the poor objectified woman. Not the best idea ever. They weren't too happy about my ideas of modesty. I took the duct tape off for them and didn't even rip the stupid poster. Hey, when they have daughters of their own someday, they'll get it and they'll remember me and my orange duct tape.

And the other reasons I say this, that I wonder if the bestby and these guys are from the same species, are to horrifying to be put on this blog. Shudders.

In other news, I named my bike Susan. I jokingly call her a slut. Because every time I park her, when I come back, her peddles and handlebars are all tied up in other red bikes. They're always red bikes. Which earned her the nickname Susan the slut. Yeah. I'm paying for that now. It's been really hot the last week, so I wore shorts instead of capris. Every time I get off my bike or on it or put it away, some random part bonks me in the leg and cuts me up. Oh man, my leg is hurting pretty bad right now. Susan bites. And it hurts.

On the bright side, I'm getting some pretty sick leg muscles!

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