Still. Editing.
But that time appears to be in the distant future, when dinosaurs have been genetically recreated by a bored billionaire bent on theme park domination and have been given free reign to roam the land, eating people.
What? Jurassic Park? I have no idea what that is, Internet.
Footnote: Dear Thunder Bay,
Please be a dear and stop switching your goddamn street names. Golf Links to Junot to Some Other Street Whose Name I Can't Even Recall? YOU HAD ME DRIVING AROUND FOR TWO HOURS TONIGHT.
TWO HOURS.
AND I HAVE LIVED HERE FOR 19 FUCKING YEARS, and yet, COULD I FIND BIRCHGROVE STREET? NO.
THAT IS TWO HOURS TAKEN AWAY FROM EDITING. Really, Thunder Bay, I have stuff to do that doesn't involve careening down side streets on a semi-flat tire cursing at pedestrians who don't know the real meaning of "right of way" ... aka, WHO HAS THE GIANT VEHICLE PERFECT FOR MAIMING?
Love,
Sarah
Labels: Open Letters
posted by sarah, the pirate at 10:07 PM

Hi. My name is
Sarah
Hey Sarah, what are
ye listening to?
BLOG CATEGORIES
SHOPPING HOTNESS
FURTHER ELSEWHERE!
I'M READING:
I'M SEEING:
BOOK CLUB!:
1 Comments:
maiming is the best.
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