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In Chicago this Week, Slowly Shriveling Away

I mean mentally shriveling.  How is it that parents can discuss weather or traffic or zoning ordinances for like, hours on end?  Seriously, my dad got home from the office tonight, started complaining about the traffic, then my mom was like "well, was it cold?"  and launched into a story about how she got some mail misdelivered but then she RE-delivered it to the neighbor's, where it belonged.  Meanwhile, I was sawing at my wrists with the only thing available, my iPod.

Is there a certain age where suddenly, out of nowhere, completely banal topics become acceptable and even - shudder - interesting?  If so, kill me with methadone right before that age.


But Dad, you HAVE to support Hillary!  You're being SOOO UNFAIR!!

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