Leila called me recently, to let me know that she has a job in Ottawa, and then she gave me her e-mail address. Nick said that you could e-mail his cell phone at this other address, because Japan is in the future or something. Both those addresses bounce like a bad cheque wrapped in rubber bands and signed by a professional trampolinist who owns a pogo stick and eschews athletic support. Why does everybody have to lie to me?
My theory is that they’re bad people.