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Ugh. Too much sugar.
Boxes of wine are highly classy, Trix, although I prefer my four dollar poet-piss, Boone's Sangria, which rots stryofoam cups and probably eats away at your esophagus on the way down. Good for sunny days out in the park.
At work; on my way to pick up some shitty deli food for dinner after the unsuccessful attempt to find some new restaurant, an old man with white hair tufting from his ears waddled up and shouted "THE PENTAGON IS LOADED," at me.
The most random book of the day to come through work was Discovering Old Buttons, by one Ms. Primrose Peacock. Her author biography included the line that she is interested in twine merchandising, horticulture, and antique tiles. |
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