A friend of a friend says his life is made up of places he can no longer go (or is no longer invited). Sad, but somewhat true. He’s also a funny bastard.
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Sandee’s aunt had her 50th birthday not long ago. The aunt makes cakes on the side so it was no big thing when her daughters (who were planning the surprise birthday party for her) asked if she’d make a cake for some unknown group one of them was in. Later, after being appropriately surprised at her birthday bash, she was more surprised to recognize the cake there as the one she’d baked earlier.
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A hand signed photo of Herbert Hoover, the former and very scary head of the FBI, hangs at the top of my basement stairs. It was there when we bought the house and I have not heard a good explanation for how it got there or why.