would cause a bicycle accident on North Country Road that I happened to pass by on my way to the gym.
I cause a scene by envisioning (out loud) a volcanic Bald Hill, flapping my arms in a pre-historic-bird-fashion (nods to Brittany), discussing rumors of pregnancy by homeless men and "bringing one's A-game" with my lovely Seven, and dancing to no music, without any reason at all. All following each other in quick succession.
I suppose it's not so strange, really. But someone has to catch the attention of those who have been treading slowly for too long.
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