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Monday, October 6th, 2008
8:17 pm
I was just in the hospital!

I arrived at the ER around 3:30am via my buddy Warren. Prior that that, I had been writhing around at work with one shoe off, cradling my swollen ankle. The doc came in, gave me a once over at some point, and then wandered off for the next four hours. I'd occasional call a nurse and ask about painkillers, and they would say "The Doctor will be with you shortly". About 4 hours later the doctor came in, and told me they were supposed to give me painkillers about 4 hours ago. To my credit, I did not strangle anyone.

But let me tell you, my ankle HURT. A LOT. I could not sit still from it hurting so much. So when he did come back, he "tapped" it, which involves taking a big old needle and stabbing it into my ankle so that "fluid" (the less said about that, the better) could be drained from my ankle. It didn't just drain into the vial from the spigot, it continued to pump out and onto the floor after the vial was removed. Adorable!

That helped a lot. Then they gave me actual painkillers, and an X Ray, and an MRI, and operated to clean out various fluids and remove a "mass" shaped like the iconic photo of Nessie from me. Later this week, they might have some clue what on earth is wrong with my leg.

Meanwhile, I am signing off, since sitting for more than 5 minutes or so at a time is pretty painful.

current mood: uncomfortable

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Thursday, July 10th, 2008
4:49 am
So I have this coworker, and I really think everyone needs to hear about this girl, because my head is just going to implode if I don't share her with the world. So - things to know about my coworker:

The girl fancies herself a writer. She has, in fact, spent roughly $1,000 dollars researching England at the time of Jane Austen, who she loves. She has a book of notes for her upcoming novel dealing with the intricacies of her plotline, and a book of notes on England in the time period she is researching. Sadly, she is by any standards one can imagine, a terrible writer. Her book is about a society of mermaids, who speak like the pronouncements made by ancient spirits in the sci-fi movie of the week. She is still trying to work out how they factor into the history she has so painstakingly researched, and she thinks she might not get to it until the sequel novel. Her grammar is poor, her writing is tepid, and for some reason she has chosen to make her main character the least dynamic and interesting role in the book, saving the interesting characters for later books.

She tells me, in a secretive voice, that the secret to writing like Jane Austen is this: never use the word "the".

Really, this bit just makes me feel bad for her. But there is more!

-----------------

She is a Ghost Hunter. She tells me she knows, for certain, there are ghosts, because she has the tools to root them out.

For instance, sometimes she shines a pen laser down a dark hallway ... if she can't find the red dot on the far wall, she knows a ghost is blocking the light. She has tools to measure ghost-energy. She looks forward to the day she is registered by the ghost hunters of America as a licensed operator, which apparently requires not folding for a year, or some such.

She tells me she knows what will happen in 2012, but she can't talk about it. Indiana Jones is right though - crystal skulls will save the world.

----------

Today, she informed us, no joke, that she was surprised Wayne and Garth bothered to write such great songs for their movie. She especially liked "Foxy Lady". Yes, she thought "foxy lady" by Jimi Hendrix was written for the Wayne's World film, by the guys playing Wayne and Garth. When I was aghast, she told me she doesn't really like music anyways - she has a NOW cd and a new age cd, and that's all she listens to, but she skips most the songs.

---------

She tells me the best movie ever made is Beerfest. This amuses me.

--------

She tells me that they are cloning a velociraptor, but she is concerned that man might be going too far - they are using frog DNA, and the raptors might switch genders and make a breeding population. I tell her this is the plot to "Jurassic Park" and she says "I KNOW! You'd think they'd have learned!" She tells every customer on register that dinosaurs are being cloned as we speak. I express my doubts as to this, and further tell her it's an impossibility. The next day, she has brought me proof:

3 printouts.

The first did mention dinosaur DNA AND using DNA to make a "living, breathing dinosaur". Score! It was, actually, an article about using what we have learned from possible DNA strands to demonstrate dinosaurs are closer to birds, and thus create better "living, breathing" cgi dinosaurs.

The second was an article about a mummified dinosaur they had located. It did not mention cloning or DNA at any point in the article.

The third was a printout of a forum page ... one of the post headlines was "scientists cloning dinosaur!". There was no link or text included.

PROOF! I had been served.

------

She likes to tell me how streetwise she is. This typically involves her telling me how she got herself into situations no one with even a shred of streetwise would get themselves into, and then barely got out of. Like "These two big gangster dudes picked me up at a club, and one guy had blood all over his hand - so I went to their place, and they were *totally sketchy*. There was blood on the wall, and they had guns all over, and people coming in and out all day to buy drugs. I just told them they could do whatever they want as long as I'm not awake, and drank until I passed out. Like three days later I asked if I could go home and they said yes, but man it was scary. I hear one got shot a year ago."

----

She tells me that Barak Obama has officially declared he is going to kick all the white people out of one state, and make it black only. She goes on to tell me she does not think this is a good idea, and that she is a smarter woman than a presidential nominee! How can this be? Also, she doesn't think America is ready for black people leading us.


----

She likes to talk about her previous career as a stripper. She also loves to talk about how she is married, which she brings up 3 times a minute, sometimes while she is grinding on one of my employees to demonstrate her stripper skills. She says "Don't tell him, he would be SOOO mad. he's jealous."

Sometimes, she tells me her secret is that she used to work in porn. Sometimes she also tells this to every other person we work with.

----

The worst thing is, she is not stupid. I mean, not stupid enough to have an excuse - it's like she has made a conscious DECISION to be stupid. Like she felt it might improve her life in some way, and she has been perfecting it for years. maybe having no BS detector just makes life more interesting - every day some new and fascinating event happens. Maybe tomorrow she will discover that aliens are behind most decisions made by Congress! Wouldn't that be wild? At the very least, she is immune from feeling any dissonance regarding her own bullshit, which flows thick and free from her lips, and has to my knowledge never created even a twinge of shame in the woman.

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Monday, June 23rd, 2008
12:06 am
Man... Tim Russert, Stan Winston, and now George fucking Carlin! Just what does life have against being awesome, all of a sudden?

Carlin has always been one of my personal models for what being funny should be like. It barely even occurred to me such a force was mortal.

Damn.

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Tuesday, May 27th, 2008
2:15 am - Prank Call

Prank caller: Hello, do you sell kitty condoms?

Me: What flavor?

Prank Caller: yellow

Me: Yellow is not a flavor.

Prank Caller (amazed): Wait, did you say flavors?  What flavors?

Me: Oh, you know, cat flavors - mouse, tuna, songbird.

Prank Caller: . . . are you pulling my leg?

Me: Yes.

*click*

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2:12 am - Jury Duty!

So for the past week or so I have been deep in the bowels of the American justice system, serving as judge, jury, and executioner, or at least that middle one.

Now before I get into the case itself, here are three things of interest which happened in the courthouse

1. I hate, in all honesty, even to mention this, lest people begin to feel my journal comments on nothing but scatological humor. But it happened, and it must be reported! So, I walk into the downstairs bathroom in the courthouse. There is an elderly man, laying on the floor of the stall, with his pants, shoes, and underwear neatly piled beside him. The door is open, and he is spreading his own excrement all over everything within reach, and moaning.

I went outside, told the guard something terrible was happening in the restroom, and I went from that place, never to return again.

2. During court, a man came over the intercom and said "This is an emergency! Would floor 1, 1A, 2, 2A and the basement please evacuate the building immediately!" I, of course, was on floor 3. Apparently, floor 3 is on the "let the motherfuckers burn" list, or something.

3. Some dude walked into court with a gun, and nobody did anything. Well, the guard motioned for another guard to come over, but he did not, and the guy walked in packing his gun. Never got found.

Oh, and the other bathroom, the one I used for the rest of my jury-duty experience, had the best graffiti ever. Directly across from where you sit, scrawled in red pen, it said "DO YOU FEEL SAFE?"

And no, I did not.

<lj-cut text="As to the trial itself...">

So the case was pretty cut and dried in most ways.

AT point A, a fellow saw a couple kids acting weird, whispering and moving in bushes and such. He watched them for a while, thinking they might try to break into his car. He saw them try the handle of a car near his apartment, then one ( a young hispanic fellow) crossed the street and got into a truck, fiddled inside it for a minute, then zoomed off at top speed down the road, without his friend. About 10 minutes later, he saw the two kids sitting at a shell station down the road, and he wandered down and ID'd the defendant as the guy who took the truck.

During those 10 minutes, the truck had traveled about two blocks south and east and crashed into a parked car. The lady who owned the car that got crashed into ran to her window and saw a hispanic fellow fall out of the car, and then book down the road with her neighbor right behind him. The neighbor who was chasing him said he never got a good look at the guy he was chasing, but that he thought it was a black male. They ran past a third guy who was watching out his window, who said that the guy being chased was a young hispanic male - who he then positively ID'd about 30 minutes later as the defendant.

Between the first ID and the second, they brought in a K-9 unit. He started out in the truck, sniffed around, jumped out, followed the track along the route the 3 point B witnesses had seen the suspect flee, turned up the road, and went to the shell station, sniffing the defendants backpack, then moving on and stopping outside the car the defendant was in. The dog went around to the side the defendant was on, ignoring his friend on the other side.

So that was pretty much the case. The defense attorney was great to watch working, all sly smiles and arched brows and finger-tents. He *looked* snug and manipulative, like a used car salesman, but somehow he still always sounded entirely reasonable, even when he was selling you total, verifiable nonsense. He talked a great show, brought in expert witnesses to talk theoretical problems. The prosecutor was young, less experienced, relying on brute facts.

The jury was mostly on the fence, sliding one way, then another, never solidifying. There were a few major players, though:

1. Shopping lady: shopping lady gained this name because she did not eat with us on lunch break, but went shopping. She came into the jury room 100% certain she could not vote guilty, because there was not enough physical evidence. She wanted hair samples, and fingerprints, and DNA evidence, and clothing fibers. The whole CSI kit.

2. Me: Me, I thought finding this chap guilty was like finding the nose on your face.

3. Jovial chap: laughed a lot, had a mustache and a bald head and talked about the Philippines (where his family is from) a lot. He was convinced the defendant was guilty, for the same reasons as me... we talked about the evidence taken as a whole, the way each piece backed up the other, how the one misplaced piece (one fellow thinking he was chasing a black man) was directly contradicted by two other witnesses who saw the same thing he did, a third witness who saw the defendant get into the car, and a dog track. Seemed enough to us.

4. Cool Seattle Liberal: older gentleman with a mustache and prominent nose who talked about books and architecture and good eats with me. We toured the local buildings together. He stayed on the not guilty side; in a singular way - he found the dog and the two witnesses at the bottom credible, but he did not like the first witness, so he said he could not find him guilty - he, along with several other people, seemed to take reasonable doubt as applying not to the case overall, but to each individual part. He had doubts about one guy, so not having doubts about the rest counted as innocent.

I disagreed, but hey. He was a good fellow. He gave the defense attorney (after the trial) an amusing lecture about how his client needs to make better life choices.

5. Alaskan Fisherman: contrary to all expectations of grizzled Alaskan fisherman, this was a diffident twenty something in glasses who never made up his mind one way or another, but was wracked with constant, vocal doubts which spooked the jury no end

Ultimately, the jury only agreed on one thing - the defendant was the guy who had stolen the car, crashed the car, and fled. The question became whether the state's case was good enough to call beyond reasonable doubt. Ultimately, it came down to an almost even split - 5 guilty, 2 undecided (one siding mostly guilty, one siding mostly not guilty), 5 not guilty. HUNG JURY! We all got to go home after 3 days of deliberation.

For the not guilty it basically came down to a few things -

1. A lack of the expected, CSI approved physical evidence. Shopping lady in particular maintained there was no evidence at all, and brandished the lack of clue-objects in the jury room like a club.

2. Individual doubts. For the most part, we agreed there were two points of view - the guilty voters looked at the case as a coherent whole that came together, and the not-guilty voters had problems with specific pieces. One felt the dog track was "anticlimactic", and that the dog should have barked and leapt at the car door rather than just stopping his track. One felt the first witness was too nervous on the stand, and would have been too nervous to get a good look at the suspect. One felt no one person had a good enough view. Doubts could be found in individual pieces, and whether or not this created an overall reasonable doubt was the subject of discussion.

3. Speculation. This was rife... the idea that we only pay attention to what was presented was thrown out the window early on. People made up elaborate stories about how a third man could have thrown off the dogs, asked whether the glass had shattered when the car crashed, and if so, was any glass in the defendants hair, and if so, why didn't they mention it to the jury? Shopping lady maintained no one could get out of a crashed car and run, three witnesses to the feat be damned. Did any of the keys on the keying found in the truck fit the defendants apartment? Maybe the dog just wanted to go to sleep in the back of the police car?

These sorts of doubts were a constant, spooking the jury and making for restlessness and not guilty voters.

4. The defense lawyer was slick, and managed to make a pretty strong feel of innocence entirely apart from the evidence... his wording was smart, his cross examinations nimble and clever. An instance - he asked the k-9 officer what a police dog is trained to do on an evidence search (the dog lays down next to the evidence). He then asked another witness if the dog had lain down next to the backpack (evidence!). The dog did not! Ah-ha!

Of course, had he mentioned this to the K-9 officer he would have told him (as I told the jury later) an evidence search is entirely different from a track - you don't lay down next to a dropped hanky and let the man get away while tracking. In a track, you follow the scent until it ends, or you make contact (bite.) A tracking dog wouldn't lie down next to the backpack, clever spin aside. But he created a very strong early feeling of innocence, even when I could see the game he was playing.



All in all, an interesting experience! I liked it. I probably could have brought the jury to my side if shopping lady hadn't been there, but she was never going to budge. An interesting look at the dynamics of juries and the such.

Also, I found a neat starbucks that I'm not telling you about.

 



current mood: tired

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Sunday, February 10th, 2008
3:02 am
So my grandma had a heart attack. No worries, she is fine! I visited her in the hospital, watched over her the day she got home. She's doing pretty good - she's a tough old bird. She had one heart attack prior to the big one, which she decided not to mention. She also refused an ambulance when she had the big one, saying it would be "a waste of money." I told her in no uncertain terms that nothing resembling stoicism shall be practiced at her age, from this moment on. I'll visit again later in the week, but her children are watching over her, so she should be fine. no complications predicted.

I think tomorrow me and my compadres shall gather and watch "Bloodsport", in celebration of philosophy being SERIOUS BUSINESS. Good times for all!

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Sunday, January 27th, 2008
6:27 am - warning: scrotal references
I would just like to inform everyone that - out of sympathy for the plight of women everywhere - I have begun to bleed profusely from my genitals.

I look at this with mixed feelings. On the one hand, this is a disturbing and strange experience. On the other, how often does one get to use the phrase "don't come in, I'm putting pressure on my scrotum." And man, do those things bleed. Near as I can make out, I got a sliver or something - small hole, large effect. And not an area fond of band aids.

When I say "boy do these things bleed" I mean several wads of toilet paper have become a vibrant red. I have plenty of blood in me and all, but there's still something disquieting when one first notices one's genitals are downright moist. I have had to clean several vivid drops of scrotal blood from the tile.

So, hope everyone is glad I dropped in to share the news! I look forward to no longer having to apply pressure, shortly.

current mood: scrotal bleeding!

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Saturday, January 12th, 2008
5:23 am - Why am I awake?
I have had almost nothing to do with livejournal for months, and I apologize to those of you out there waving your arms in the air while my back was turned. I saw none of it! I've been disappearing down the hole and into my various obsessions, and I come out to find my room is a mess and I have said nothing that will remain recorded.

I have decided if I were the sort to throw parties, I would throw a "power outage" party. I would buy candles, and flashlights, and turn off all the electrical objects, and we would tell stories and chat like people do when the power is out. I think that would be a lot of fun.

Random: I love books, and I have read many books that make me envious, apart from being thrilled and delighted by their existence. Some novels make me feel almost as though I could have written them, or they were written by someone very like me (some Vonnegut does that, for instance). But only two things make me grind my teeth and think "OHHH, if only I had written that!!" and those are "Grendel" by John Gardner, and the play "Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are Dead" by Tom Stoppard. Man, I'd love to have written such things.

Anything wild happen out in LJ land? Bet I missed some good debates.

Oh, and to all concerned - my phone appears to be down. Mail me or comment if ye want to get up to something.

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Thursday, October 4th, 2007
11:51 pm
See if you can make out the identity of this bizarrely popular political figure!

title or description


the answer!Collapse )

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Tuesday, September 25th, 2007
3:26 pm
If you are the sort of person who, upon seeing something that could be described as a "super worm" will respond by shrieking and throwing the container in the air; my advice to you would be to not open the container labeled "super worms" in the first place. I did not need a shower of super worms in my day.

In other news, I spent 3 hours the other day prying and smashing apart metal cabinets, in a dumpster, under the beating sun. While standing on glass cabinets. Or occasionally not standing, as when I fell THROUGH the glass cabinets and ended up surrounded by 4 feet of jagged glass and twisted metal, which I had to climb out of. And only got a small cut! I'm a lucky dude. Plus, I move like a *cat*.

I wrote all of the above like, 2 weeks ago or something. Apparently, the draft saved itself!

My e-mail is pestering me about a "secret lover" I have, which strikes me as unlikely. I tend to have a pretty clear idea of who my lovers are at any given time. Anycase, I have no cell phone, so the identity of my midnight visitor will remain unanswered.

I was waiting to post so I could write about Ryan's wedding, which was pretty awesome, but I haven't had the *ambition* thus far, so I shall put it off for now.

I will however here note that Stephanie's mom *pinched* me, and called me "handsome". My word!

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Monday, August 6th, 2007
10:15 pm
This is so accurate, it's spookyCollapse )

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Saturday, August 4th, 2007
11:53 pm
Today a young boy walked up to me, hugged my legs, and happily buried his face in my crotch.

Needless to say, I was aghast.

Awhile ago, one of several people I went to a Mens Warehouse with (in preparation for Ryan's soon to be awesome wedding), walked into the place, looked around at the salespeople, said "this sucks", and blew his nose on his hand. Then wiped it on his shirt. (That was Henry)

Needless to say, I was delighted.

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Wednesday, July 25th, 2007
3:17 am
I am gravely dissapointed that the Weekly World News is being shut down.

Tell me, what kind of a world has no room for half bat children, mermaids and undead Elvis? What other news outlet picked up the story that Mother Earth herself has come out in favor of Al Gore for president?

This is a travesty

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Friday, July 13th, 2007
11:58 pm
One of my roommates has some job that currently involves our living room being filled to the brim with freshly printed magazines, posters, and flyers. Have you ever smelled a room full of freshly printed magazines, posters, and flyers?

Neighborhood teens are dropping by and asking if they can huff our house.

****

Got to see Tiffany a few days ago when she visited, which was fun as well. It's been a time of seeing people I have not seen recently. She made me walk in the sun, which is no way to treat an old friend. But she also gave took me by krispy kremes, and the spaghetti factory. So that was cool. The second day her sister and her sisters-boyfriends-kid came along. Cute kid, but I couldn't say "cock" all day. Not that I normally would ... but I was constrained.

We saw Evan Almighty, because it was the only PG-13 film we could agree on. It was like a hallmark card with a couple laughs. Bleh.

But yea, was fun seeing her, and we had adventures just like we did in days of yore ... getting lost, getting rejected when we wanted to buy glasses, getting rejected for our movie suggestions... that sort of thing. There's a certain exhilaration in knowing the world is against you, and you're having fun anyway.

*****

You know how tv dinners always say "Let sit two minutes before eating"? Well, screw that.

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Thursday, July 12th, 2007
1:06 am
I have a headache right behind my eyes, my skin is all blistery and peely from sunburn on my legs and arms, and I jammed my elbow somehow.

For a graphic interpretation, see below:

Read more...Collapse )

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Sunday, July 8th, 2007
10:36 pm - la visita
Right, just got back from Vancouver WA the other night, where I did many and numerous things, and now my thighs hurt and my ass is bruised. No jumping to conclusions! Was hanging about with Kevin, and old buddy I rarely see, and we went inner tubing down a river. Under the daystar, which did as expected and burned my legs to a crisp. They're counter-shaded, bright red on the outside and suitably pale on the inside. And rocks enacted unprovoked and near constant violence upon my ass.

It was pretty awesome, as it was a group of about twenty people wafting down the river in a massive tangle of tubes and feet and the like, trying to keep together in a giant super-organism sort of way. Then a chap got locked out of his car after his keys became the rivers keys, and we had to wait for a long while in the parking lot, which was boring. Then I went to a party, which was less boring, and we launched water balloons at one another and over houses.

Then later we played Magic: The gathering, which defied expectation by not being boring. Met a cool chap with a busted hand who kept me entertained while Kevin did other things. We watched some awesome Beatles themed Power Puff Girls episodes and the like. I gather his journal is like, chock full of genitals, which is always a plus.

Also got to see Kevin’s parents, which was cool, as they used to give me donuts and arguments - two things I love like Mr.T love ice cream and party hats (I assume). Kevin himself was much like Kevin in general, amusing to be about and very social; except with a large tattoo and an inexplicable fondness for wife beaters (I think I forgot to mention that in person. Kevin, your fondness for wife beaters is inexplicable). Disscussed turkey and Restaurants and girls and things. Caught up on various stories and shenanigans, and I got to regal most of his family with the tale of my wound-hole.

Somewhere in there we watched The transformers movie, which was pretty good, which I wasn't exactly expecting.

Last day we raced at top speed to arrive 10 minutes late for the bus I needed to catch, which was fine because it was a Greyhound bus *spits* and thus predictably was just under two hours late. Rode home with a chap who had just got out of jail after falling asleep at the wheel and killing someone in a crash. We swapped stories about life inside and outside of jail. Apparently, the I-5 killer signs his name with a smiley face.


Who knew? Now I study more for my test and the like. In a minute, actually.

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Saturday, June 30th, 2007
11:58 pm
Today I saw one of those groups of people you only see in horror movies, or halloween parties... 5 girls - a goth girl, a preppie tennis type girl, a cowgirl, token black girl and a disco raver type girl; running in a pack and laughing and shaking their hair like a music video montage. This does not actually *happen* in *reality*. It was like a Bratz dolls commercial.

My poll for the day:

Beck was:

A. A gifted lyricist

B. A skinny pothead who got onstage and mumbled random gibberish out of his beer-hole for an hour in order to fool the unwary into trying to make sense of it all.

I do have a position!

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Thursday, June 28th, 2007
1:09 pm
Before taking a crap in a urinal, think to yourself "Would this *really* be funny, or do I just think it would be funny because I am an idiot?"

Also think "Will this make extra work for Devin, who does not want to deal with this sort of thing AT ALL?"

If the answer to both of these is yes, kindly take a spiked mace and insert it in you anus. Sideways.

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Tuesday, June 19th, 2007
1:48 pm
Cat just wandered back in last night. Thus far, he has not been especially forthcoming about where he got off to, or under what circumstances. Obstinate cat, just sits in my lap! Still, I am pleased he is back.

Also, I am just now getting over the black death my now-suddenly-ex boss gave me (company is moving their chess pieces again). As of right now, I can sing "do, re, mi..." and "fa" and above are silent due to my voice being hacked out.

"Singing" is, admittedly, a generous description even in the best of times.

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2:11 am
KITTY IS BACK!!

current mood: happy

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