Long Story Short

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Carrying On

You know that chicken head thing I mentioned last week? Yeah, that was gross. I was fishing around in my giant box o' chicken and I pulled out what I thought was the top end of a drumstick. But as I turned it around in my hands, looking for a way to eat it, I made direct eye contact with it. It was staring back at me with a fucking beak. Needless to say it got thrown across the room, my head was protectively covered by my arms, and I screamed "Get it away from me!" That was the end of dinner.

Thanks for the feedback on the ex situation. Christ you all are helpful. Conclusion: NOT CALLING OR WRITING OR EMAILING. Seriously, why would I even want to? I'm insane. I wrote out this whole angst-ridden paragraph about me and her and my feelings and blargh and I will spare you. Cause I'm cool like that. Moving on...

Countdown to the QCC* -> 21 days. Mark it on your calendar, start shopping now, stock up on boozeahol, and get ready to par-tay.
*Quarter Century Club

12:43 p.m. - 2005-05-03

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