Sometimes, when Darren is sleeping peacefully in my bed (until noon), I like to fold laundry and stack it on top of him to see how high I can get it before it tumbles to the floor or he notices, wakes up and gives me that groggy what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you look. I'm not sure why he even bothers with that look anymore. Some questions just can't be answered.
Sunday, December 05, 2004
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