Thursday, March 18, 2010

What a stool story!

I don't lie much anymore.  I have no real reason to lie.  I don't have to tell my parents where I just was (the library mom, I told you, we have a presentation and I needed to use the dewey decimal system).  I no longer have real homework, so I don't really have to tell someone about my fictitious, but embarrassing jock itch to get out of turning a paper in by 5pm.  And I've just started admitting I like Justin Timberlake.  So I really don't have many fibs to tell.  Therefore, currently, 95% of the lies I do tell are directly related to me getting away for 5 minutes so I can poo.

"Man, just saw a friend of mine from Chicago; he just started a Masters program here! Talked to him for like 7.23 minutes.  Crazy small world we have!"

"Sorry, my roommate called.  My fish just died.  Are my eyes still red from all the super sensitive crying I was just doing in the bathroom?"

"Sorry I'm late, my dog ate my ability to get here on time."

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