Conflict of wills for the ages last night: one of the only things that helps my stupidly epic insomnia is to fall asleep listening to the soothing monotony of Sports Center. Last night, though, all Sports Center wanted to do was ball wash the retirement of St. Tony Dungy. And I HATE Tony Dungy. Because, I'm sorry, being very publicly devoted to
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... that's like the least surprising piece of information ever, isn't it?
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Somerville
http://citizen.somervillema.intelligovsoftware.com/Default.aspx?reason=1&ReturnUrl=%2fnewRequest_1.aspx
Boston (call Mayor's hotline)
http://www.cityofboston.gov/mayor/24/
Brookline
http://www.brooklinema.gov/index.php?option=com_wrapper&view=wrapper&Itemid=908
Cambridge
http://www.cambridgema.gov/TheWorks/services/snow/complaint.aspx
SADLY doesn't exist for Medford.
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You know, I spend a lot more time with a permanent black marker than I would like, but apparently there are some benefits to working with a population that has super-mega huge disclosure concerns -- I can't ever bring files home from the office.
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[blah blah wrestling, Mickey Rourke's pulverized ham-face]
ME: eh.
[BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN: didya ever see a one trick pony mumble mumble and you see meeeeeee darlin mumble mumble]
ME: CAN'T BREATHE. THIS SHIT IS SADDER THAN THE HOLOCAUST.
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I don't think it's a spoiler to tell you that the Springsteen song starts playing as soon as the movie ends. But! The song plays for what seems like a good thirty seconds BEFORE the credits start rolling. So we were sitting there, like, "Are we just gonna watch a blank screen and listen to the song?" I might have been okay with that.
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