A Failtastic Fairytale from the life of Rachel the Great

Well, I was having a fairly good day today until life noticed that I was not lying face-down on the floor and decided to punish me for being in a nice mood. As Jamie already knows but none of you do, I am epileptic and, as a result, am not allowed to get a drivers licence, so my only mode of transportation is this old bike that my grandpa gave my brother. My brother never uses it, so I have slowly fallen in love with it and gotten very used to looking like a dweb and riding it around everywhere. Basically that bike is my only friend (so not true, but it is for the sake of being dramatic right now). Well, this lovely friend of mine decided to go and get a flat tire when I was riding it out to this very nice lady's house to milk a goat. Yeah...my life is strange. Anyway, I got the pleasure of looking like a moron walking a bike down the street dejectedly instead of riding it, which doesn't sound that bad but it is a humiliating experience! Everyone stares at you like--
"Why aren't you riding your bike, you weird teenager with a Bieber Bowl?"--as they drive by in their Comfort Mobiles. And you know what popped my lame road bike tire? A goat head. Not an actual goat head, of course, but one of those spiky things that have a habit of POPPING PEOPLE'S TIRES as they go to milk an actual goat. So that's basically my interesting story for today. Obviously I have no life, if I can rant for a paragraph about how I had to walk my bike like ten feet before my mother came and picked me up. This is a sign that I may very well be on here often. I won't design my page tonight because I am a loser and have to get up at six o'clock to go milk that goat, but I will do it tomorrow so I can stop being such a mystery woman. Please forgive my rambling ridiculousness. I hope that you don't all regret letting me on this blog already. If you don't yet, don't worry; there's still plenty of time.