Celebration! The new issue of
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Diary of…Gregory Price. I didn’t like the name anymore. Thursday: Stopped at a coffee shop. The milk in the carafe was bad, but the attendant refused to replace it. Apparantly, people had been complaining about it all day, and she was tired of being the butt of such a poor practical joke. Friday: Replaced the
Diary of Edgar Pierce. A little experiment. Thursday: Ate squid at insistence of sister. Friday: Or quite possibly octopus. Saturday: The texture was rubbery, although not quite as rubbery as rubber itself. Obsession with cephalopodic meal continues. Sunday: Am being followed by strange presences dressed in trench coats and fedoras. The aroma of the sea.
Once upon a time… There’s stuff I want to talk about that I don’t want to talk about. Car situation, worries about Banshee Studios, the ever-present financial woes, the near-maddening internal debate about what to plant in the front yard come spring, stuff. Just stuff. So here’s me, just writing. Uh, don’t read this if
Library. There’s a revolving door at the East library in Colorado Springs. Most people avoid it, choosing instead to pass through the handicapped entrance (a normal door) to the side. I say, how often do you get to go through a revolving door, anyway? …And there’s a coffee shop that serves espresso right in the

