You! You Are The Voice!


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That is what the Sheriff at the DMV chortled. Yes. I. Am. The. Voice.

I haven't seen this paticular Sheriff friend of mine in quite some time. He didn't recognize me at first, but then as look of recognition crept over his face, so did the evident delight that he was speaking to "The Voice".

This is the same voice my sisters refer to as "sacchrine", "retarded" and "annoying".



Too bad he is married, because otherwise wouldn't that just be a match made in heaven?


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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.


I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.


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