I hate when they turn the heat on. I hate it--I hate the smell of it, I hate the whistling noise it makes against the air vents once I close them, I hate that my windows are hermetically sealed and impossible to open. It's my sister who turns the heat on upstairs--she gets cold and I get hot, that's the story of our living together
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Anne Rice promises to now write only for the Lord.
Amen. I guess I have to go build a church now, don't I?
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...and we're in Maine.
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/born, raised in Caribou, miss it terribly
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Thanks for the story links--it's going to be a loooong boring day and I left my book at home.
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I should mention that it was a review where I REFERENCED MYSELF BY NAME, as in "David Carter....." I personally expect a little net plagarism, so be thankful that your plagerizers aren't so lazy as to leave your name all over the damn thing.
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