I was in CVS picking up my wife's prescriptions, one of those complex orders that require fifteen minutes by a highly trained pharmacist to put thirty pills in a bottle, when my eye fell on the magazine rack.
It's the fantasy isn't it? I can't wait for my porch remodel to be finished so I can join the ranks of the magazine dreamers. However every Paradise has it's serpent. Up the street at the fine community bank that hordes my wife's money there was a dork who couldn't park to save his life. I felt like sliding the Bonneville into the half spot next to the driver's door but he's the kind of dimwit who calls 9-1-1 for such huge problems.
All the world is queer save thee and me, and even thee's a little odd.
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