I'm watching a Seinfeld rerun. I never realized Amanda Peet played the woman Jerry dated who lived with the "dude" (also the catfight/Scarsdale Surprise episode if that means anything to you.) Even back then one could see glimmers of Amanda's genius.
I heard a gunshot outside (I'm at home). It was a couple of blocks away. Interesting. It was a single gunshot, not a series. I guess the shooter hit his target or got his point across.
I have a new idea for a screenplay. Yes, my other idea still needs to be written. It will be. This new idea can be summed up in one eleven-letter word. I can't say the word now. You reader(s) could take my idea and run with it and then spend the rest of your days sipping Kersschwasser. From a shell, in a Franklin Hills mansion. I will tell you this: I'm coming back to comedy.
I liked my job today.
Some would argue that the eleven letters should be split into two words, one with four letters and one with seven. I would argue that they are wrong. It's edgier with one word. This thing will write itself.