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Tuesday, September 25th, 2001
2:57p - pop secret clearance
No matter how high up you go in the echelons of power, or how fancy your office space, somewhere wafting through the halls always comes the smell of burnt microwave popcorn.

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11:22p - ms. miniver
(Car speeds by and cuts people off)
"I can see it's going to be 'Assholes on Parade' tonight."
(as same car cuts more people off, sound of "Washington Post March" being hummed double-time and fake kazoo-style, with hysterical laughter in background)
"...I was trying to make it sound like it was coming out of my sphincter."
"Well, you'll have to use your real sphincter next time."
"What, now I have to fart the National Anthem to get your attention?"
"You'll just have to eat beans for lunch, I guess."

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