Ok, I have just stopped hemorrhaging from my nostrils for the 4th or 5th time in not as many months. Aside from disgusting me generally, this has also led me to conclude that I have a brain tumor. Clearly I am at death's door.
On the up side, if fortune holds, I will graduate, make a last weekend visit to the hippie farm, lay benediction on my college roommate's new daughter, and then quickly expire before I actually have to take the bar exam, or worse, find an actual job.
Since my doom is imminent, I invite you loyal reader friends to claim my possessions so that I can properly bequeath them to folks who would appreciate them. Pantalones, I have already earmarked the matched set of KitchenAid mixer and food processor for you. However, in the event that you do have a marriage ceremony, acceptance of the kitchenwares means that you have to wear my pearls on your wedding day. Call it a condition subsequent.
Items up for grabs include a brand spanking new microwave, a charming indoor rock fountain, a large chest of very expensive art supplies, enough camping equipment to outfit a small troupe of girl scouts and enough booze to run a respectable bar for their harried parents. Additionally, the costume closet contains a santa suit including wig, beard and spats; full pirate regalia; an electric-blue, velvet Elizbeathan gown bedecked with pearls and glass beadwork; a velvet courtier's suit in reddish purple with extensive gold and green embroidery. I don't have the shoes with buckles or appropriate stockings. All costumes will fit a tall dwarf the approximate circumference of a spherical cow with a distributed shape of a bidpedal avocado.
I also have a 30 gig video iPod that skips and a dell laptop whose 6 month old battery is already nearing the end of its usable life.
Gah... the gushing begins anew!
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