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September 14, 2009
Although I'm quite amused that upon placing a single Zotz (grape) in my mouth and sucking on it slightly to release the fizz, I'm instantly zapped back to middle school, 1975, I'm not too thrilled that I've landed in the locker room after gym class, where I'm trying, on one nail-bitten hand, to sneak peeks at tits, and, on the other, to change out of my one-piece blue and white gymsuit under half a dozen way-too-small dry white towels (they don't get wet if you don't shower). Next up: I chain-smoke three milk chocolate cigarettes and pray for third grade.