December 23rd, 2004

"Wow, you look like Frankenstein!"

I'm turning into my brother.

This frightens me for obvious reasons. I have a beard. I find myself amiably chatting up strangers with alarming frequency, i guess in large part because i'm walking around with a semi-grotesque conversation starter on my head. Tonight, while walking to my out-of-town friends' home where i'm staying tonight, since the power is out to half my house including the heat, i happened upon the blazing neon sign for a psychic. In a fit of brother-like whimsy, i rang her doorbell. She asked how she could help me.

"10 bucks if you tell me what's caused this [scar where my staples were]. I'll give you 30 seconds."

"It doesn't really work like that."


" crash?"

"Nope, sorry."

I jauntily closed the door and actually skipped away.

I'm truly quite concerned about this development.
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