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Monday, January 31, 2005

Dear Miss Lonelyparts,

I have grown recently disturbed. My nights are troubled by horrific dreams. The most frequent is Ted Kennedy sneaks into my room at night, draped in seaweed, the stiff scents of marsh salt and Aberlour A'bunadh soaking the air. I am frozen in fear. Cannot move. He slides into my bed with a soft belch, slithers under my covers, runs his sea-pickled fingers through my hair and whispers, with the unmistakable stench of fried brie on his breath, "Surrender!"

Is there something wrong with me?

Resigned to Fear

Dear Resigned,
If you live in Georgetown this is a common enough occurrence. Keep all foodstuffs tightly sealed, sprinkle naloxone on all windowsills and keep your doors triple locked. If you live elsewhere I suggest you take six to seven hot baths a day, vigorously apply petroleum jelly to the affected areas and consult a physician immediately. If symptoms persist, and are not treated promptly, you may be subjected to late fees, fines and overdue withholding taxes amounting to but not limited to your outstanding liability plus the remaining unpaid bar tab for Mr. Kennedy at the Palms.

Good luck!
Miss Lonelyparts

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cross-posted at LifeLikePundits