"Guess who I sauw at a fucking blawck paaty in Brooklyn," my oldest friend in the world in commanding me through the phone line.
"I have no idea. Philthy?," I respond bracing for the impact of learning that she ran into my seventh grade boyfriend or some other equally unsavory member of my past and casually passed on my e-mail address.
"No. The
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the most ttyki ever left for me when i was being negligent was shredded toilet paper and a tidy turd in the middle of the kitchen floor. of course, there was the time she peed in the corner because i was playing with a dog... but she did that while i was in the same room with her.
ps: it's a long shot, but see if there are any rummage sales going on at the local church. i just read someone's blog entry where they made off like bandits with loads of free vintage stuff.
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The cats are overwhelming me.
Yup--it's looking like I'm actually going to have to put a bit of effort into this chair thing. What a pain in the ass.
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what's your handle?
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Were the cats responsible as a unit, or do you have one of them pinned as the culprit?
I need cookies.
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Bentley is my absolute all-time angel. That's all I have to say about that.
E-mail me the postal digits. Cookies can be arranged. I have nothing else to do Vish and anyway, a birdie told me it was your b-day.
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