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Of course, she popped the thing in on the first night we were there; hell, every night we were there. I was praying it would be horrible, sitting on the edge of my seat waiting for it to suck. But, of course, he opened his mouth and it sounded like honey from the lips of angels. I mean, shit. The guy was dressed in a suit, and had all the hand gestures down, and was harmonizing and soloing and everything. My directory brain couldn't adequately process what was directory going on before me. And my mom had directory a look on her face like she was at a Sinatra concert. After it was over I tried to win back some points by telling her my Alzheimer's breakfast joke. But it didn't go over as well as I'd hoped, so I went to bed. Part Two tomorrow...including my trip to the cloning clinic, a few pictures, the night of the gassy aunt, and more. August 18, 2001 OK, that does it for me, boys and girls.
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