Well readers, it was an interesting weekend indeed. Apart from a gas line rupture and Chad boisterously celebrating my little sister's libational legality while reading questionable content on the internet, I had the pleasure of meeting more Australians in Las Vegas--only this time, the one chatting me up was former rugby player, which I think is twice as cool as being an Australian cowboy or soap opera star! The reason why he didn't ask me to be his girlfriend on the spot is definitely because of the whole long distance thing. On an unrelated note, does anyone know any Australian 20somethings who live in Tulsa? It'd be really cool if you introduced me to them. I'd take a British guy too. But please, spare me your Canadians.
Today I'm here to cover a controversial municipal mandate that recently came about. This change has certifiably sent middle-aged Tulsans all over the county into a catastrophic frenzy. You can't enter a Super Target or a Cheesecake Factory or any other cliche haven in Suburbia without hearing at least one silver fox in a PFG or a soccer mom in Juicy Couture grumble about this new policy. That's right readers--Tulsa has changed the way that the city picks up garbage, and Midtown and South Tulsans are NOT amused.