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18 July, 2002 :: 8:38 a.m.

I neglected you in my entry yesterday, Kid--Happy 21st Bob Wickman Bobblehead Day...a day late, but I got you in here. You know I'm dragging your ass out to the bar with me so you can live some of these situations that I manage to get myself into when I go don't have to jump in if someone starts kicking my ass or shouting at me, all you gotta do is be witness so you can help me tell the stories later on.

I've always got your back. What are we gonna be when we get done with this foolish-ass college game? Where we gonna go? I say we move in with Chuck and Brandy--we all go in on a big house, you and I get jobs at a local gas station where we will only work the same shifts and we can piss people off all day/night...we'll make minimum wage, but Chuck and Brandy both have real jobs, so we'll just chip in for food and utilities and such...we'll be one big happy family. Whattayasay? Steve can come visit and work on our computers and such and he can maybe get a job as a history teacher...then you and I will only have to work a few days a week at best, just to keep them from bitching and saying we do nothing but play games and watch movies all day.

Shit, I just realized there's a name for what I just proposed...say it with me now...a commune. Maybe that's why more people don't live like this...

Okay, I'm open for your suggestion.

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