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Sunday, May 19, 2002 Our room is a mess. The project is inching along. I'm surrounded by papers, writing furiously (nowhere near done, unfortunately). My roommate is arm deep in goo. Some people are memorizing lines and that fencing guy who dresses in black is busy procrastinating. Yes, all will be revealed. Soon. Other stuff that's less enigmatic: All I Really Need To Know I Learned By Having My Arms Ripped Off By A Polar Bear. Ah. If life were only that simple. Parents say kid's thong is just plain wrong. There they go again. It's not only plain wrong, it's plain creepy. Advice about Writing. And don't forget to actually write. [posted by S. Y. Affolee on 11:32 PM : ]
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