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January 7, 2012
Seventh entry. I hid Skip's comb. Took it off him when he was heaving. Wedged it behind the port cover, so it's got a front row seat to colors and shapes no comb was meant to see. Try to part that, you greasy plastic bastard! The tilt reversed all at once when I was catching Zs, so now we're listing to the left but near as I can tell slipping in the same exact long long circle that feels like falling to your death in the black in a busted up, pukey phone booth. Ha! Skip, you'll never find it!