So yesterday began the torrential downpour-a-thon that is engulfing much of my known world for the next two to three days. Nonetheless, Sarah and I decided to hit up this place
Freeman's for brunch, which is not so coincidentally in a place called Freeman alley on the LES, and also Sarah's last name, so it was a bit of a Freeman OD of sorts. The
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I wish I could write like this:
"Persevere, and you'll discover a taxidermist's dream of a dining room, specialty cocktails, and a homespun American menu tinged with the occasional Anglo accent, like devils on horseback and summer pudding."
stupid articulate journalists.
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Fuck Myspace is what I say.
Also that forensics job with the "compros" sounds pretty win.
I'm so glad you're back on livejournal.
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