basement flooded, 3 inches of rainwater fried our old tv and carpet.

I got back from my California trip. My dad called, telling me he signed me up for ballet lessons. Apparently, I don't move gracefully enough, more like Godzilla compared to Twinkly-toes. I'm gonna say this once, if I go ballet-dancing, I ain't wearin no tights or big-ass tutu. Unless if I were Long-Dong Silver, I reluctantly would have to say I prefer the big-ass tutu over tights anyday. My dad then said I was too cynical and lots of guys do it too. I didn't have the heart to tell him that 98% of those "men" enjoy other men. Shame on me.

That's got to hurt...