2.05.2010

I don't live here, anymore

Sometime last year, I packed up all my writing utensils, my backpack, and my books and hied off to a different place. Alas, I no longer live here.

If you wish to read anything I write, I welcome you into my new home. The decor changes now and then, and I'm absent a lot, but the cookies aren't too stale. My furniture isn't all that comfy yet, mostly plastic lawn chairs and egg crates, but they are sturdy and reliable.

So, take a stroll on the dark side, and come visit me at my new home. Have a seat, dip your stale cookie into some milk that is just about ready to turn, and relax. I'll stop by now and then to see how you are doing, drop a funny story or a witty comment, or maybe just a pithy phrase. I may use you as my venting board, but that's ok, you like it. Right? You wouldn't be there if you didn't.

Oh, and leave a comment to let me know you were there. I get lonely.

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