On this day, in 1964, in a deep-sea hydrothermal vent, almost ten thousand feet down along the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, I squiggled forth from beds of giant tube worms and albino crustaceans. I drew my first watery breath, sucking in superheated brine, belched forth by black smokers and loaded with nutritious sulfides and acetyl thioesters, and then
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At least you still have your tail.
The great library of the Chancel of Labors at Iron Pine.
...Complete with dead scholar in the basement.
I do wish I could run the game with the graphics at optimum. I'm running fine at medium, but there are obvious resolution issues that occur all the time.
Of course, I hope your birthday is peaceful and the words come easily today.
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Well, what the damned surgeons left of it.
...Complete with dead scholar in the basement.
Yes!
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Best wishes for your 47.75th... Hope your birthday wish comes true (but if it's for the cometary impact, I'll hope that it waits until after I've gotten a chance to read Blood Oranges!)
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(Images of smiles and wonderment when we were all young.)
That is especially kindly.
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My tastes in cake are somewhat mundane. Yellow cake with chocolate frosting.
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