Alright?
I started reading American Tabloid by James Ellroy today. It was a birthday present from Ben way back in the heady September times when bank statements were alarming and headbutting York Uni administration was optional but desirable. I'm here to tell you it's badical, radical, wicked and sick. I was almost late for work today because I lost
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Oh, and about Aber, do you know which train you're on?
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The Alchemist is frustrating in exactly the way you fear. There's a long foreword in which the author explains the premise of the book and it's not like you've got to read deeply into the text to figure out the menaing, he's blatant. More blatant than the cannon's of The Esperanto being used to kill the despair squid.
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The one thing I forgot was to ask Katie is she actually has any classes on that day...
She does.
SO!
There is another train two hours later (which would perhaps be easier on Salka too) which gets us there at more of an early evening time.
I am aware that there is some sort of event combining the yin and yang of drunkenness and singing on the Friday evening so I don't know how well that would work out either.
If it comes to it Katie says she doesn't have a huge problem feigning illness to her tutors so it's basically whenever's best for Salka and thee.
I AM NOW ABOUT TO PEACE YOU OUT SO YOU SHOULD GET READY FOR ME TO PEACE YOU OUT
PEACE OUT!
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