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Monday, April 21, 2008


(From December 30, 2007)

So my source for free wireless internet seems to have dried-up.

Maybe it was the witch.

Dig: A witch just moved out of my building.

How do I know? Because when people move out they leave free stuff for the remaining tenants on the first floor radiator. The other day there was a big pile of curious items that included lots of books on witchcraft and a neat little box emblazoned with a pentagram. Also, there was the entire collection of Peter Ellis' "Cadfael Mysteries" which I snatched up because I guess that if I ever bring a woman back to my apartment I want to make damn sure I don't accidentally get laid.

I mean, really. Why the hell else would I have grabbed them? I don't read mysteries. And let's face it ladies, if you went back to some guys place and among his other hundreds of books there was a two foot stack of paperback mysteries featuring a 12th Century Welsh Benedictine monk who solves murders in his spare time would you sleep with him?


(I gotta get rid of those books. )

So what was my point?

Oh yeah, the internet. Don't use it to get a hold of me. Use the phone like a normal person.

(Now I'm going downtown to Macy's to buy a pair of monogramed silk pajamas because goddamnit I'm worth it.)


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