i feel bad i got waylaid by that venezuelan. i had to ask. i should never talk about politics on the island. never. at least until i know they're sane. 
then i went to a sale and got stuff i don't need and already rid myself of several items. i have a mental illness about acquiring useless doodads. and shame. i have a studio of shame i left to my stuff. it's a museum of dispossessed impedimenta. i go and get the mail and water the near-dead plants. r. made it clear (again) it can't happen here. i have to purge and i have a terror of the task ahead. how many times have i said never again. more than wars or presidents.