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If we could all reflect on the days when that love was so real. So strong. Everybody, please give a moment of silence to the most beautiful couple that ever graced the screen: Betty and Don Draper.
#applause
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Sighting - Process - Recovery
Yesterday I was driving down Street One and I saw a small tan chihuahua running out of the neighborhood that I saw the other two dogs running into the other day. As I drove past the dog last night, I swear I saw fear in its eyes and it ran like it was running away from something--like it wanted to get away from that neighborhood. Out of that neighborhood. It was running past oncoming traffic and I wanted to pull a U-turn and find the dog. Help the dog. It didn’t have a collar--because the dogs I’ve seen never have collars, for a reason--but I was too scared. We were so close to my old neighborhood. I didn’t want anyone to identify me. I didn’t want any word to get back that a blonde girl called got caught running after the dog. There was no time to call Animal Control, at the time, I thought, but now I’m thinking I should have -- there was a dog running in plain view of the general public; anyone could have called. Any one might’ve noticed. It’s not like it automatically would have been me. Hm...maybe I should call the sheriff’s office? Maybe I should report it as anonymous and just say that twice now I’ve seen dogs running without collars near that particular street/intersection, and I’m concerned about the safety of animals in that neighborhood....that’s a possibility. They would be able to identify my cell phone number, of course, but I don’t have much linked with this new number. They would probably get my name. But I don’t think the sheriff is involved...I just don’t think they are. I swear that it was the sheriff’s animal control that was there that day on the street when I was walking around the neighborhood. The van with the “Report Dog Fighting” sticker on the back...I just don’t think they’re involved. I could try reporting it, though, and see what happens. And it’s a new neighborhood now: it’s further south than where I lived. Oh my gosh--I think this is perfect.
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My Purpose Here
If I’m going to call myself a writer (as I’ve done for the last 10 years), then I imagine I’d better start writing something.
Since I no longer use journals (RIP Moleskine and Leuchtturm!) and spend most of my day working on a computer, I’ve decided to give typing my journal a try instead. I can’t say whether I’m going to legitimately attempt to write anything other than the nonsense of my brain, but it’s an attempt to familiarize myself with writing again, as it really has been quite a long time since I’ve written sentences of my own. 
I’ve given myself the title of The Lazy Prostitute for two reasons:
My name is obscured and I am therefore anonymous. I have the freedom to write whatever I’d like about whomever I’d like and, as long as I change some names and details here and there, no one will ever know to read this blog and then identify any of the people that I’m talking about!
If I were in fact a prostitute, I would be a lazy one. This is how I would think: If you paid me enough money, I would fuck you, but it has to be enough because I”m not going to be doing this a lot. Or, can you send me money if I just let you watch me in my room with a web cam?
I think many of us are really lazy prostitutes. We all want easiest bang for the biggest buck and we’ll sell ourselves if we think the payoff is worth it.
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