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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."
I don’t understand why everything about religion has to be so complicated; for instance, the guys and I are thinking about driving up for the Pope’s funeral, but if we call it a roadtrip, will it sound like goofing off; and can we drink beer on the way?
“It’s as I expected,” the doctor told the biggest sentence ever as they both looked over the long line of “::::::::s” on the x-ray, “you’ve developed a serious case of impacted colons.”
Just when I start hoping I’ll die of old age some day, a letter arrives to remind me that the cause will be banking complications.
It is a little known fact that among the angels in heaven there is an ironclad hierarchy defined by your death—with death by falling piano the extreme top of the pecking order and death by banking complications establishing the other end of the spectrum
Henry preferred potato soup to chicken soup in much the same manner as he preferred redheads to brunettes, which isn’t saying very much, given his overall admiration of both redheads and brunettes, and of course, maybe blonds, which he preferred nearly as much as tomato soup, which doesn’t make any sense at all when he thought about it, because wouldn’t redheads be tomato soup and blonds the potato soup (all of which he enjoyed very much, mind you); women, Henry thought, only complicated his thoughts on soup.
Fruit jars remind me of my simplicity, although there was a time when our relationship was much more complicated.
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