Love is exercise.

… and jumping. Lots and lots of jumping.

We’ll back tomorrow. After we’ve jumped our hearts out.

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And if you’re really missing me – can’t live without me – you could always go read what I have to say about the politics of hot dogs (and see why I was once mistaken for Debbie Gibson. No, really) here. Or come talk about sex here. Or get your fix of gossip here.