Gross, gross error

Much as it pains me to admit, I have made a terrible mistake. In a momemt of weakness, I bought my husband the Abba compilation of hits. Yes, I know. What possessed me? It arrived this morning from Amazon and he has been playing it ever since. It’s not that I dislike Abba, but would you want to listen to all 37 of their relentlessly catchy hits, one after the other? No, exactly and, what’s worse, I’ll probably find myself humming them tomorrow when I take part in my club criterium. It can be lonely riding along in the peloton’s wake. I wonder what Kenny van Hummel did to keep himself amused?

The horse fly bites have subsided somewhat so I now look part-way human again and can again expose my arms and legs without people covering their eyes and fleeing while screaming in terror. Slight exagerration, but they were very unsightly.

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