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January 10, 2012
Ten! That's gotta count for something in the annals of sitting around with your thumb up your ass. Gave Skip back his comb. I took a little pity on him. He ain't got nothing else in the whole world without it. Heard him cryin' in his sleep last night. I wonder what secrets his comb is tellin' his head about what it seen out the window, or if maybe now it's a crazy comb, lost its mind out there amid the colors. I wouldn't comb my head with it, though, I can guaran-damn-tee you that. Guaran-damn-tee.