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I think I’ll only hop today. Yes, because it is the leap year, but that’s not the only reason. It seems my right leg has run away with Angelina Jolie’s (they met at the Oscars). And now my left leg knows just how Jennifer Anniston feels. I only hope it looks that good when it’s middle-aged but dating younger men. I am a little afraid, though, since my right leg has absconded. My other body parts might get the notion to secede as well, and I’ve never been terribly good at walking on my hands. The leg might be like South Carolina (I always thought it was a little racist) and convince its neighbors to join it in a new body. And once my Florida leaves, I’m not sure I could go on living.

That’s a wiener joke.

I pee salty, home-forclosed tears!

(I’m shaped like a wang!)

I am kind of on the fence about the whole thing, to tell you the truth (and it is surprisingly difficult to balance on a fence when one of your legs has run off with a movie starlet). On the one hand, I miss the little bastard (my uncle, who actually only has one leg, always told me it was the quickest way to lose 20 pounds). On the other hand, I support my (and Angeline Jolie’s) body parts’ right to choose whom they will and will not associate with. Like if Rick Santorum’s foppish grin suddenly decided to abandon his face to seek out the nearest cruisy highway rest area (and whatever delights it might find there), I would not be against it.


I probably murder cats!

And neither should he. It is the leap day, after all, and while I’m not sure that leap years are totally on the up and up (I mean, they aren’t even mentioned in the Bible!), it is at least an extra day to consider what we think and believe in. And, of course, to hop hop hop hop hop hop hop.

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