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After Mike said it, I couldn't get the image out of my head, even after Matt said he showered with his clothes on once. And he made an illustration, which is a bowling ball with stick arms and a dog's head playing the drums and saying "Please tell me whyyyy."

I don't have a scanner, but I will do the next best thing this weekend!
A FACSIMILE!

It will be done with a mouse, so it will be the rough equivalent of a lobotomized monkey covering Space Dementia with a toy piano. That's right. I insulted Muse. That's what you get for making me not spell lily propperly... oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear.

The guy didn't have floppy ears, though. He was just really big, and he was part of a cover band that covered Lit. Remember Lit? I don't. Not until Mike evoked it.

There were no Heralds, so people couldn't do the one important thing in there: The Crossword. And the Jumble. It makes Matt feel a little smarter.

Mike says that Kristi can learn to write "Dead Children in Newspapers." That's the name of a song. She can't wait to hear We Save Strawberries.



All of the chapters of Aubade and about half of Serenades are up
That's apathy speaking, bay-bee. And the fact that I can never remember what they said about curiousity and cats, but will cover myself in blue woad while muttering "the locusts made me do it blork gorb" and burn all invitations to GFF meets just to be safe.

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