Lunch time. I am eating a sandwich I like to call the treyf trio: salami, mortadella and cappicola. Yummy.
The Pilot stares at me contemptuously as he continues to cut weight. After two nights in steam room, he’s down to 61 pages. It’s time for more drastic measures because that last page, like the proverbial last ten pounds of a diet, is going to be a bitch to lose.
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