Still hot and sticky out. Grey skies. All day. Drank beer yesterday. Need a popsicle. There's nothing on tv. It's rainy. Shooting tomorrow. Cobain and I, having already bought matching uniforms, are thinking of getting patches made for our 'squad'. We were thinking of naming our hardy band of foreign dogs of war 'Fighty Whities'. I have to stop watching 'America's Next Top Model', for the sake of my very sanity. My throat is sore.
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