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One of my friends and I have times where, if the mood is right, the moon is half-waxen, the cock's comb is cherry-red, etc., we get nutsy. Much saying of things that maybe aren't funny at all, tears streaming down our cheeks. You know the drill, bit. A few months back, we obsessed over statements about truth and angels. "Angels never die. They just go to heaven."

SO, tonite's dinner was magikal and important because we've not been n'synch as of late...to do with busyness, sulkiness, whatever.

Now, earlier today: friend wraps up his acting class, and the whole group is asked by their teacher-coach-mentor to state what they learned from the day's exercises. They answer very earnestly about inflection, trusting your scene partner. When pal's turn comes, he says (after a gentle pause): "Well, when truth and justice have a baby......it never cries." Whole class sits there silently, a few chairs squeak. Oh, oh, oh comely.

I went to the pissoir during our dinner (I had a huge cup of Milk and Honey, no joke, and it was just as nectar-sleepymaking as you'd think. plus, America in my mouth!) and then returned, grabbed my pursething and we left. I came home to a fork tucked into my wallet. We could be kings! Oh wait, we are.

fell on 2004-08-19 at 12:18 a.m.

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