Thirty-Eight

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Monday, July 11, 2016

Jack

Hey Ceci, looks like I'll be back in Detroit, Monday, Aug. 1, then out the next morning.

Thursday, July 14, 2016

Ceci

Hi! I'm back at camp on Lake Michigan!

Jack

Oooooooooooooooooo Nice!

If you don't use your real name in this book, I've got some fake names. How about something provocative like Lola Lovefast, or disturbing like Bertha Teeth?

Friday, July 15, 2016

Jack

Do you like anchovies?

Sunday, July 17, 2016

Ceci

Yes

Just left camp, phew.

Jack

I'm at a post-softball BBQ. But I want you to know that I am heavily matchmaking my son. Selling him to the girl's father. You'd be proud. He just grilled me on Justin's college plans.

Ceci

Good ground work.

Jack

He gave me a tentative, "Maybe I'll bring her to next week's game". Now I just need to finesse Justin and trust in Mother Nature.

Sure, this matchmaking is being run by Dads, so it's probably doomed. On the other hand, if we can get them in the same park. She has dimples. He's toast.

Monday, July 18, 2016

Jack

And you realize that by answering the Anchovy Question, you have revealed your inner soul, no different than if you gave me a pair of inner-soul x-ray specs.

Ceci

LOL! What are you talking about? 

Camping was great, but it is a lot of work. I kinda host the whole trip, so I feel like I have to make sure everyone enjoys it. 

A bunch of people and their kids show up. Like 30 people.

Jack

Check your email. We have a job heading your way -- enhancing a video of our poetry instructor being tackled by three cops who then charge him with assaulting an officer.

Your camping trip sounds Awesome. Kids Amped on marshmallows.

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Jack

The Anchovie Question bares all. 

By reading the anchovies, I can see that the outermost layer of your soul contains the usual stuff: You want to rule the world. You yearn for a future where everyone communicates with mathematical equations. And you hate kittens.

Going deeper, the middle level of your soul: It's all about me. You are infatuated! Clearly, after more than a couple beers, you cannot be trusted with my chastity.

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