I talked to a guy at Merrill Lynch the other day about consolidating my retirement assets and optimizing it all for income, so he said he would send me some information and forms. Today I got a envelope with a return envelope in it. That's it. Just a return envelope. I'm torn between either emailing him or sending back the envelope with a note that says "There's nothing here."
Oh, man, I had to go to a few of those for both my Sister and my Niece. Painful.
I tried. I still wonder what was in there. Human bones, maybe. Or the remains of a space alien who crashed in the swamp back in the 50s. The dusty of old costume of a deceased superhero from the 1940s. Or maybe just stacks of old Pulp magazines in mint condition.I would have insisted on seeing that room, RJ.
Cool. Is the album available yet?
I'm really tired of "post" stuff. Somebody really needs to come up with a new trend.-- it sounds really good (or as good as post-punk can sound )
Have a good time.
Must be some kind of coverup. The fire was probably caused by a saucer crash.Why the road was still closed a day after the fire is beyond me.
That would definitely take the edge off.I had to go to a dance recital for some freind's kids, but thankfully it didn't go on that long and the college-age girls made the night moderately tolerable.