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Friday, September 24th, 2004 11:59 am
I can do away with one of the invasions. The superstitious wino only needs to drink himself to death, and things are much less repetititve. What a relief.

However, the chapter becomes much shorter -- 1330 words into it and it looks like I could end it now. But I'm not ready to send him out on his own. I'm just feeling a lot like my guy -- bored, aching from idleness, itching to move. I'll write a little more and then go do other stuff.

I'm not going to say a word about Anne Rice, okay?

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