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2004-03-17 | 11:42 p.m.
when the fire alarm went off during his high school wood shop class, corduroy licorice put the hammer down.
anecdote from a the new yorker magazine article about prison gangs:
the reporter was in court to hear evidence against a defendant who was already serving time on another charge and was a known prison gang leader. the prisoner's wife was sitting near the reporter in the courtroom gallery.
as a witness testified against him, the prisoner leaned toward the reporter and said, "don't believe a word he's saying. he's nothin' better than a shit-house rat."
"don't use that language, honey," shushed his wife.
"metaphorically speaking," the defendant said, correcting himself.
the online dating guy i've been e-mailing over the past week or so skipped a couple of days of correspondence. i know it's too early to say, but i wonder if we're breaking up? this would be my second break-up in as many months with a man i've never actually spoken to, verbally speaking.
i think i'll recover from this one ok. a few days of intense chocolate therapy should help. and, of course, i'll need to tear up his photo.
but i'll have to download it and print it out first.
take a peek at these - (c) 2000-2003 nictate:
quibbling with quitherfeather
catcher in the wry