an amendment

7 pets.

nicole and i had a carnival fish named queequeg that comitted kitchen sink suicide one very rainy night in portland.

i don't know where jeff t. smith is these days, but i have to offer him up love and thanks for rushing to our house after i left a surely unintelligible phone message for him, half crying, half laughing, mostly screaming. he didn't even look too disgusted when threw open the door, expecting a huge emergency, and instead found two girls devastated over the half dead goldfish in their sink. he just scooped it up, put it in the freezer, and walked out the door.

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i actually think we named it Tashtego. Oh, the Moby Dick days...