So I broke out the Koolaid and simmered wads of wool that are now swinging in mesh bags on the clothesline. Nothing like cooking up a big pot of hair
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Completely unrelatedly. I read in the paper about a guy called Joe Hill who has just written a bestselling thriller. Turns out - and nobody knew this for like 8 years, not even his agent - but he's Stephen King's son.
Yes! And allegedly it's scary as hell. Unfortunately I wasn't counting on the yokels here reading the paper or the net and somebody's checked it out of the library before I could get at it.
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