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Use this space for notes and reminders to yourself.
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Expiration date is not required, only if you want the note to magically disappear.
A great place to keep your fantastic ideas, like, "Hey! I need to write more sentences about crickets and English gentlemen with unruly beards."
The steam from the strong, black coffee rose up in front of him and, almost like a fade in a movie, his vision blurred and he was re-living the many adventures of the past year.
“The idea, Keith, is that you and I will travel around the country together eating pot roast, writing about the places we see and the people we meet along the way, as well as any thoughts or insights we might have about the pot roast, which we’ll then publish as a coffee table book.”
The van pulls out of Boston early with the three of us - me, Steve, and Steve’s wife, who we’d both thought would be staying home, but surprises us with her enthusiasm for the pot roast tour when she quietly slips into the van this morning, slides into one of the back seats and says only, “My bags are on the porch,” which I’ll admit I first thought meant bags of potatoes, but of course ended up meaning her clothes and things, which luckily, ended up wedging between the leftover coolers just fine.
To think that until just the other night I’d never even been east of the Mississippi River, who would have been able to guess that I would suddenly find myself pulling away from one of the countries most historically rich cities with two nearly complete strangers, my hands gripped tightly to the oversized steering wheel of a used Snap-on delivery van, in search of America’s pot roast?
The little girl stood trembling at the top of the monstrously tall, scalding hot and gun-metal grey slippery dip, wondering how she’d ever get down from the nightmare, when suddenly a white-scaled, rainbow-feathered dragon came giggling and jingling out of a rip in the sky, swooped down towards her and plucked her out of the air.
I’m betting that porridge sounds more exciting in the land of pirates and wenches.
You may well be able to have fun with words, but eventually someone will get hurt (falling off their chair with laughter).
The feeling of adventure and revelling in history is indescribably good and tastes, surprisingly, like snow.
Time-travel napping sounds adventurous and thrilling, but not so much when you settle down for a quick snooze and wake up surrounded by robots and/or dinosaurs.
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