I was at Xam Eciffo this afternoon, and the famous Jenny Key -- a male whose real name, as you will recall, is actually that an early '90s pop star -- was working there. I hadn't seen him on my last two visits, and I was hoping that his aggressive, annoying, and just plain weird sales tactics had gotten him fired, but no, there he was. Once I saw him I tried not to make eye contact, and I made an attempt to duck down an aisle in...oh, forget it, no one cares about this but me.
--- With 75.5 points -- 5 behind the leader -- I've worked my way up to 2nd place in my 12-team fantasy baseball league, which consists mostly of people from a film discussion group I frequent. I managed to do this despite my top three hurlers (Schilling, Gagne, Benítez) all being on the disabled list, mostly because my awesome hitting (52.5 points, 1st place) mostly managed to cancel out my ugh pitching (23 points, 9th place). Unfortunately, now that my regular 1B (Thome) is on the disabled list as well, I'm concerned that...oh, forget it, no one cares about this but me.
--- In a music contest update, I still haven't...oh, forget it, since unless I win, no one cares about this but me. And maybe Kim.
--- Kim started to feel Baby Prins hit/kick/head butt a couple days ago. And yesterday, with my hand on her belly, I...oh, forget it, no one etc.
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.
