Dear My Blog,

Blog: Stop. Stop it right there. Say it to my face.

Me: uh. Oh. I thought I could just ... leave .... a note.

Blog: You went to FOLSOM CALIFORNIA on a BIZARRE ACTING GIG and didn't even want to blog about it? What is wrong with you?

Me: ... later?

Blog: WAS THERE or WAS THERE NOT a middle aged woman who screamed at her son to grab your breast, which happened to be covered with about 40 logoed paper napkins, and that was the one clear moment when you thought, 'well, I'm not entirely sure what my job is, exactly, but this is definitely not a part of it'?

Me: ... that happened.

Blog: and?

Me: And then I had a boob of mauled crumpled napkins.

Blog: maybe you want to write about it?

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