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don’t play with your food… usually.

Yesterday, I had a hankering for some spaghetti. So I drove to Mr. Goodcents, where I got just what I wanted. However, as I was paying for my dinner, a high-school (or young college I suppose) girl handed me a torn up piece of paper. I stood there as she said, “it’s a present for you.” Umm. I said “thank you” and she stuck out her hand and said, “my name’s Amanda.” Actually, it could have been a different name entirely, for I’m a poor Rolodex.

Once back in the newspaper lab, I ate my food. After I was mostly done, Kelland came up and asked to see my remaining noodles. He then started trying to form letters with my left-over food, including my little pieces of chicken. His final product was “Bulimia” spelled in food. It turned out really well, plus I got some funny pictures of him photographing it.

The wine cork from last Saturday’s nasty bottle of Koala wine is sitting on my desk. It’s surprisingly strong, even sitting a foot away from me.


  1. I want to know more about your encounter with this so called Amanda-Hug-and-Kiss. What was the paper for? Was she hitting on our dear ol’ Adam? I’m curious. J Lee

  2. Mikell Mikell

    I wonder..

    Did you look for a phone number on that wadded up piece of paper?

  3. Of course I…. didn’t. I’m not nearly that smooth… especially when surprised. She’s probably crying right now, devestated that I showed such carelessness with her heart.

    A perfect example of why girls should be more upfront. I think.

  4. Mikell Mikell

    If this world was perfect, then we would; however to our misfortune, it is not.

    Es tut mir lied.

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