To blog effectively about last night’s cheerleading clinic would require more mental focus than I am able to summon at the moment. I promise I will tell all within the next few days.
For the moment, I’ll just say that, of all the times I have been sore the day after spending an evening in the middle of a group of sweating, groaning gay men, this has been the most enjoyable by far.
Yay! You’re going to be a cheerleader!! I am sooooo envious of you. Can I hang out at your locker and scorn all the uncool kids with you?
XOXOXOXOXO. I wish I could always be in New Jork and hanging around with you, instead of having my inlaws in town for a week, getting some kind of evil Cthulu-like cold, and having my beloved computer crash beyond redemption, taking much consulting and novelizing with it to its watery grave (well, maybe…we’re taking the hard drive to a Place in a few minutes, so we might be able to resurrect the zombie data).
Careful, you know what happens to cheerleaders. They burst into flames at tryouts and invisible girls tie them up and cut their pretty faces.
Or maybe I just watch too much Buffy…
Now it’s official. You’re a conundrum, wrapped up in a question mark, wrapped up in crocheted cheerleading skirt. But in our school, cheerleaders were the sluts and it was songgirls who had the class. Which one are you?
Get your ‘sparkle-fingers’ ready!!
I meant, of course, Cthulhu.
As you see, I am desperately ill. Once the spelling starts to go…
Do you mean ‘spirit-fingers’, Stacy? 🙂
Nick, if you need to ask that question you clearly haven’t been reading for very long.
they are sparkle fingers too…that’s why my cheerleader friend Sarah would call them, long before “Bring it On” came out… 🙂
Ok, I cannot type tonight. I meant to say “That’s what my friend…” I guess I shouldn’t post comments on people’s pages after finishing an 8 page take-home final, huh? I’m so out of it right now…