Fantastic, I now have a rash on both my arms from all that grass pulling. "It'll build character," he said. Thanks dad. The yard has been mowed, so it would seem that my grass encounter has come to an end.... or it will, just as soon as the stench of this infernal grass is longer detectable.
I wonder if I should do something more productive. As someone once put it, a writer's block is just a fancy way of saying you're lazy. It's much less strain to write a blog that nobody is even going to read than it is to write creatively. Also I need to fill my sketchbook with more pigeons and other such nonsense. Pigeons are all the rage these days. I have a good friend who adores pigeons and other birds. She's lovely, and I thought the pigeon craze was self-contained, but now.... Sometimes pigeons have got nothing to do with her, but I feel like she's secretly the mastermind behind all pigeons. I have too much jumbled in my brain to consider starting another story, but one day I want to write a story about a crazy bird lady.
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