I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m just somebody else’s imaginary friend.
But I’m still trying to figure out whose.
I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m just somebody else’s imaginary friend.
But I’m still trying to figure out whose.
My wife says she knew I was the one when I sent her an email that included an Oxford comma.
Who needs it anyway?
Not me, apparently, since the city will be shutting off our H2O supply between 9 and 5 every day next week while they continue to work on the road outside my apartment.
Paris is nice and all, but finding stuff to do outside your apartment for 8 hours a day, five days in a row without spending a mess of money is giving me more stress than I want to deal with.
It’s like talking to a chihuahua with a brain injury.

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