A few days in St. John's and weather that is barely winter. Speed back across the rocky scab of the Avalon, caught in a heaving chest of wind. Trees low and sparse, lichen like shaggy tufts of hair. The whole place seems made from the skin of a mangy dog. Barren and barely habitable, grey and wrinkled. But somewhere in rock undulations there is a
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Maybe some kind of online calendar though. That may be helpful. Lord knows I spend enough time online daily that I could see it.
Thanks for the suggestion!
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I'm glad you got in again. You could always do it but I feel you now want to do it. And that will make all of the difference.
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Cross your fingers for this go-round. Hopefully I can right some bad decisions.
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(you knew I would.)
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you're totally Van Wilder. Except better looking. and smart. and better packag-ed. and you never nailed Alanis Morrisette, as far as i know.
and don't think of yourself as being "THAT GUY". Think of yourself as being a bona-fide Grenfell Celebrity, an Urban Grenfell Myth. at least, that is how I think of you.
Work with this, milk it for all it is worth, like Thackray milks the Beard.
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