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despite previous scoldings from his mother, corduroy licorice continued to eat salty potato snacks on the new maroon velour couch, letting the chips fall where they may.


from harper's magazine's weekly review:

"deputy defense secretary paul wolfowitz warned iraq's neighbors not to meddle with the american occupying forces, proclaiming, 'i think all foreigners should stop interfering in the internal affairs of iraq.'"


a friend of mine thought he saw me making out with someone in a car outside of work yesterday morning, so i guess the old saying is true: dopplegangers have more fun.


last night i bought me a big fat homemade-style chocolate chip cookie at the gourmet grocery store i frequent. it was about the circumference and thickness of a hamburger--including the sesame seed bun. a beautiful sculpture of flour, butter, sugar, vanilla and hunks of chocolately goodness.

even the cashier had to shout.

"wow," she enthused, as she turned the cellophaned-cloaked masterpiece in her hand this way and that. "are you going to eat it tonight?"

"it could happen," i admitted, "but i probably shouldn't eat it all at once. right?"

"but once you start, it's going to be hard to stoooop," she drawled, eyeing the snack with envy as she handed it to the bagger.

i could feel little pins of annoyance being launched into my side by the next couple in line for slowing them down with gratuitous snack chatting. i didn't care. the checker and i were bonding about something obviously very near and dear to both of us. we were fellow members in the club of cookie lust and this was our secret handshake.


i had half the cookie for breakfast this morning. only its richness kept me from wolfing down the whole disc in one sitting. daaaaaaammmmnnn, was it good. made me wanna jump back and kiss myself.

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