A place for musings about everything under the high summer sun
Friday, September 29, 2006
There are pigeons living on my balcony ...
... and I don't know why. What I do know is that there is no sign of an actual nest anywhere, and there is pigeon crap all over the place. Maybe they're having a lost weekend or something. I won't bug them, but they better clean up after themselves.
I'm a writer.
I'm an author. (Wait, isn't that the same thing? Oh, never mind.)
I'm a Cubs fan (the cross I must bear).
I'm a liver transplant recipient (the greatest favor in the world).
I'm a professional smartass.
I make a mean plate of scrambled eggs.
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