Aaaaah, just got back from Long Beach. For such a nice, shy guy I seem to find the trouble. I can't remember what happened exactly except I got my friend home, he was on his stomach on his girlfriend's couch, his head in a bucket, and neither one of us got stabbed or shot. Not a bad night, though I did leave before I got...
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My mother always kept dead animals in the fridge or freezer. She liked to paint them. She would put the dead owl on the table, spread its giant wings, and sit there all afternoon sketching and painting. I think it made her feel better about the fact that she hit it with her car.