century, was so fond of gambling that he spent the whole day playing, while
devouring slices of bread with a filling between them. Little did he know
that his name would become eponymous with that food.
last night i dreamt about leggings. i wore leggings under everything, even other pants. then i reenacted the scene from beetlejuice where they draw a chalk door on a brick wall and it opens into ghost mayhem. in my dream i smashed my body into the drawn door and hurt my face.
so far today: fax machines, overcharged coffee, serendipitous harpists, realization that being back in school means taking finals and writing easy papers about recent biological issues. my choice: face transplants.