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The other night, Michelle and Jeff were over and we played the game she got us called “Apples to Apples”. Fun game, I won, but it was really close all around.

The leftover cards? I suggested we played “war” seeing who’s phrase / noun trumps who’s. I had a card labelled “Hiroshima – 1945” and figured that would out-do anyone. Jeff declared himself the winner, and I rejected the idea, telling him “you don’t want me to drop the bomb.” He insisted so I threw down the card, and he topped it with a card t hat read “cockroaches”. We all laughed our butts off, even now just thinking about it. There’s no way in a million years we could have planned that.

On another note, I ripped my hand open. I’ll spare you all the photo. How, you ask? Kung Fu fowlup? No something much more hazardously manly. I was washing dishes. I had my hand in a glass and it just broke around it. Merry patched me up, but it’s taking forever to heal — I should have let her use Crazy Glue on it. It was large enough to see white inside, which I am guessing is the cartilage around the knuckle of my index finger. I couldn’t even type or write for a day or two, but I can do all but make a fist at this point.

Other than that, lots to talk about but nothing I want to bore people with here a this point.