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Hollow-Holler

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October 24, 2009 - 12:02

Since it happened I haven't like washing. Wilting, the water defiles me, perhaps irritates my nerves. A shower is absolutely out of the question.
Soaking, I mentally prepare myself for the body parts, which ones i'll wash, in which order. I hate washing my feet most of all, so I have them first.
I puked over the side of the tub (it's in a tiled alcove) heaving "bheef bone, bheef bone", spelled clearly with an "h" in my mind. What does it mean?
He hired a house cleaner. That's what my Mom did when we were babies to keep us in cloth.
Speaking of, she lived by her wits, and I guess I do the same.

We have no advantage except a willingness to ask for less then we're worth.