i left the money on the ironing board and rose was reading on the bed, some beverly clery book with a marx brothers title and it's about a boy having wet dreams or just some young adolescent girl getting into mischief
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Did I need a rotary telephone? No. Did I need the fisher price circus ringmaster? Of course not. And yet, here I am, buying religious medallions and the 1974 evel knievel canyon sky cycle...
i have a fever! but i keep thinking i can take the ten hours of laying-in-bed-time and trade it in for traveling to new york and walking for two hours and somehow making it back before eight o clock. but it's fever-thinking! irrational thoughts! one hundred and three degrees! fuck it. i'm going to the museum of science.