At 11:30, I sustained my most serious disk golf injury; I now have more than 10 cuts and pricks on my right hand.
At 12:30, a young child took the small stuffed pig that has been sitting on my desk for over two years, and I didn't have the heart to ask for it back.
At 1:00, the man who was governor of Virginia two months ago, Jim Gilmore, came into my office to talk with my boss about AAWP, a fact that I did not know when I designed its new logo and advertised its new clothing line in this very space four hours ago.
Lord, why must every day be the same?
oh so lovingly written by
Matthew |
i sincerely do not know what you are doing here. are you lost? were you
looking for your delicate calico cat, and did you follow her up two flights of stairs
to this room? she is not here. she was here, yes. we gave her a warm bowl of milk, we talked with her about campaign finance reform for a time, and then she bid us good day. i believe she was
going to the post office two blocks down, but i don't quite recall.
for surely you did
not find your way from prinsiana, the least traveled site on
the internet. if you did, though, perhaps you are looking for humor. perhaps you are looking for profundity. perhaps you are looking for answers.
i'm sorry, but you shall go naught-for-three.
