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Over dinner, the kids told me how much furry artists make and… good gods, I’m in the wrong line of work.
The dogs did not know why we were laughing so hard, but since it resulted in dropped french fries they didn’t spend too long cogitating upon the matter.
My particular contribution to dinnertime conversation was the Chippendales Murder Plot, which I SWEAR TO GOD needs to figure in a romance novel, if I can just find the goddamn time...