evidently my fathers idea of fun involves an old fashioned ledger and figures that all add up correctly, i.e. with a profit. god damn the man has got to get a life. of course if a life means buzzing about like my mother fretting about how old she looks and whether or not the Corkslys of main were comeing for new years... I'd take the ledger.
I need a carribean vacation. maybe some farm time on one of those organic farms. I hear they make you work to hard for you to have time to think.
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the life of a third
rantings and ramblings of a spoiled rich kid
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