Dec. 6th, 2002

fox: my left eye.  "ceci n'est pas une fox." (Default)
... and is rewarded with a double helping of self-doubt.

lent le boy a gaelic-english/english-gaelic dictionary which he thought might be useful for his final paper (on noun classes). [have history of lending classmates things in case they find them useful. this is not the point.] have just received e-mail:

"well, i'm going to be doing french instead of gaelic. huge sellout. so anyway, wherewhen do you want your mint-condition dictionary back? hope you're surviving ..."

decided, whatthehell, and responded thus:

"french instead of gaelic? *huge* sellout! but hey, if it correlates better, go for it. (you know what they say -- when all else fails, manipulate the data.) mint-condition minty-green dictionary: oh, whenever. i'm about to skip town, will be back tomorrow evening, and i'm always up for avoiding The Paper (survival is overrated), plus i owe you money, so let me know wherewhen is a good placetime for you to take a break, and we'll go get a beer or something."

must not give matter any more thought. (yeah -- like that's going to happen.) will now go get allergy shot, and then go curling. out of my hands. ngah.

(but if he says "i don't drink beer, sorry," and leaves it at that, i'm done. done. that is all.)

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fox: my left eye.  "ceci n'est pas une fox." (Default)
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