The Thumbscrews Were Effective, Ja?
It was odd writing the name "Isabelle Mercier" in my last post without writhing in agony from the electrodes the doktors implanted in my brain. I've undergone aversion therapy the last six months to break me of my puppydog crush on the divine Ms. M and it seems to have worked. Six months of endless pain and suffering and torment. Well, that's love for you.
I do feel a bit guilty not mentioning that Isabelle finished 7th in the EPT event in Deuville, but as I followed her
progress I could feel the electrodes charging for a punishing jolt so I chose discretion over a fried hypothalmus. And just the other day ESPN ran a nice little
interview with Isabelle...Isabelle...
Isabelle...
(please excuse this brief interruption)HERR DOKTOR, I AM SO VERY, VERY SORRY! I WAS WEAK, JUST FOR A MOMENT!! I'M FINE NOW! MY THOUGHTS ARE CLEAN, I AM A GOOD BOY! I POSSESS THE DISCIPLINE TO BLINDLY ACCEPT YOUR INSTRUCTIONS! I AM A GOOD, GOOD BOY!
What was I talking about? Dunno. I was eating my lunch, I started writing, there was this blue flash...I'm such a scatterbrain! Odd, my chicken noodle soup tastes like a handful of pennies. Needs salt, maybe?
Everyone in the building is talking about a car that just, like, drove into the river right by Heinz Field. About 100 yards from our office. I can't see anything and it's like 10 degrees out so my curiousity will have to go unsatisfied.
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