J.R. took me to play pool today, and whilst I can't say that I played well, I did play better. J.R. likes to console me with comments like, "Good form, honey," even though I didn't make the ball. I did eke out a win, however, when he scratched on the 8. Other than that, though, the closest I got to winning was two balls left on the table when he sank the 8. It's progress, though. And, if I keep up with the exercise and eating right, I can distract him with my ass in skinny jeans.
Hey, a win's a win, people. You gotta work with what you got.
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