If my life were a true-crime mystery novel, I would not have been able to walk past Leavitt & Pearce in Harvard Square from the restaurant where I had dinner this evening and just spilled most of a bottle of ketchup on my light tan linen trousers, splattering them horribly, without having Patrolman Murphy notice that my pants were spattered and
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Now, if you were wearing the patented Smoking Jacket, I'm sure you'd have turned heads.
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You are just awesome. :-)
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Did you really? How embarrassing. I'm glad it didn't stain.
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