I'm starting to get the feeling Woundup's days at the Cracker Factory are numbered. That's a good thing. I believe yesterday's unfounded declaration may have been the spot of grease the gears needed. That or it was the Bass Ale I was thinking about buying after work. I had my first bit of luck about two weeks ago, around the time I bought a six pack of Bass Ale from Stella's. A magic elixir? Maybe for getting kidney stones...
Don't worry, Woundup will continue. We're just going to change offices. I'll miss our time here on "The Magnesium Mile" (W. Hubbard St.). I'll miss Winky at the corner store; I'll miss Big Stu at the pawn shop; and I'll miss ol' Semicolon Bob and his goddamn fucking semicolons.
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