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January 9, 2012
NIne. Nine days or whatever in the time machine with myself and Skip. I don't know which of us I hate more. I don't know where he ends and me begins. Took apart the console an hour ago, curious to see how they got it wired, and Skip threw what I would call a bonafide shit-fit. Jesus H. Christ, it's only wires and PCB. I seen them plenty of times up close without breaking anything. "Oh, the ship this!" and "Oh, the ship that!" You shoulda heard him carry on. Did me good, getting Skip's goat, I gotta admit.