The Cancer server curse is back. Last weekend, in El Paso and New Mexico, every waitress was a Cancer. It just worked out that way. I had dinner with fredlet and her beau, and the first waitress was a Cancer. Somewhere, someplace, somehow, something is trying to get a message to me. I think I’m going to stop asking, “So what’s your birthday?” Got Pa Wetzel off to his reception and had a nice afternoon cruising around Austin with the parental unit.
The Cancer server curse is back
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