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Welp, that’s two-thirds of my swag crammed into Badger House. The only casualty so far, a small bottle of patchouili oil that leaked out over a bunch of stuff in transit. My hands smell like the illicit lovechild of the Glastonbury Festival and Woodstock.

How bad is it? I poured Uncle B a drink and he turned it down because the glass stank of hippie.

Ow. I’m off. Bath. Booze. Laterz.

January 16, 2009 — 7:54 pm
Comments: 53