A chronicle of mundaneness steeped in irony and pointed realism with no real direction or point and no real defined end-point. Except maybe Tuesday, which Tuesday I leave as an exercise for the reader...
Tuesday, May 13, 2003
ugh, i need to go whack weeds and mess around with yard work...the absolute last things I feel like doing right now....oh, well, I don't think I get much choice in matter since we're having a shingding on Saturday...
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