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Monday, August 2, 2004


Cinderella Syndrom
If I were eloquent, like Sara or any other person around here (just thinking of how many intelligent people there are in these parts makes my head hurt), I could make a grand post about something that came to me a few moments ago.

But alas, the hour is late and I am of no greater stature than it is possible to claim my existence [scarcely] doth leave the soil.

It has also become evident that I need to assertain some form of textured barb wire, to keep out the evil residents of the garden world. There is nothing worse than to sit peacefully in front of your illuminous screen and have an unwelcomed insect bombard the privacy of your eyeballs. Maybe having a limb cut off would be considered vitally more traumatizing, but I'm not claiming to be adult about anything.


Congratulations to Solo !

You may claim your prize.



Yes, it's late and I promise I'll go to bed now, sleep soundly and wake up tomorrow at whatever hour suits me. Can't promise the sillyness will be gone though. Nor the inability to spell and perform correct grammar.

*smiles and sleeps*

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