Friday, March 26, 2004

Why, when I randomly decide to peruse my favorite used bookstore on a nice relaxing Friday, must life decide to play with me? Why, on the day that laundry and laziness dictate that it's "look like a hobo" Friday, must Hot Matt show up at said bookstore? Why, oh why, must Hot Matt show up right when I'm perusing the Anthropology section for something new to read, thus giving him reason to poke fun, ensuring that I must now not only make conversation, but witty conversation?

Had a twenty-minute conversation with Hot Matt. Was quite fun, and involved ranting about horrible social research. I can get behind that.

In other news, my kitten has apparently tired of viciously attacking any exposed flesh. His new plan of attack appears to be aggressive sleeping. Should my typing suddenly be a bit... off, the cat has probably fallen asleep on my hands again.

Not much to report, so I guess I'll sign off for nosdfrwefkmdkcma.sdc

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