quaint little rutted bucket

Sunday, October 02, 2005

Confessions of a deranged mind

It freaking did it again.

The horoscopes. Man, I should get some sleep.

I know that there's a certain scientific term they call these types of statements--the ones that seemingly specifically applies to you, whereas in fact, the language is worded so cleverly that it could just about apply to anybody else without you consciously noticing it. I just can't seem to remember what it was...

Oh well.


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