Prepared for the Worst
Saturday, 1 March 2008This morning, I smell of garlic. Last night, I ate a considerable amount of the stuff: three bulbs of baked garlic, perhaps a quarter cup of pesto, three little garlic buns, and fettuccine Alfredo made with garlic.
I am to meet my friend Felix early this after-noon at Lestat's Coffee Shop, to return his copies of those movies that he loaned to me so long ago.
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