With a doodle and cock

Hey internet, hey baby. Who’s a good girl!

It’s still 11:11 twice a day, and we all know that is lucky. It’s true, it is. Why do I notice 11:11 all of a sudden? Is it the Lord? Is it Fibonacci? Is my clock broken? Who is trying to tell me something? Oh, it’s iCal. It says I have a lot of work to do. Drat. Hi, iCal, hi. I like your pretty colors. This has all happened before. I am special, and there is money stuffed in my socks*.

But seriously, this 11:11 thing is a big old deal. A lot happens on November 11th. Did you know that in 1634, the Irish House of Commons passed “An Act for the Punishment for the Vice of Buggery?”

The nosy church billboard down the street says “ATM Inside: Atonement Truth & Mercy.” I guess they do not manufacture vinyl commas for those boards.

I went with a friend this morning to pick out a board to display photos of her father at his funeral next week. What is someone going to pick for me some day? It’s too much. I am going to have everyone I love slaughtered as if I were a pharaoh, so you may not want me to get too attached to you. My father plans to die at a specific time. I do not doubt that he will achieve this, because he’s just that stubborn.

*Not really, but it would be nice, provided the money were in the form of large bills, and the socks were loose enough so as not to constrict when this extra volume is considered.

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