| posting 20050826 [message #118591] |
Fr, 26 August 2005 19:28 |
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The Biz was a weekly bit of libel written in a snide, knowing sort of tone t
hat implied the folks who slapped together The Biz were just coming from lun
ch with movie company heads, who couldn't wait to slip them the latest gossi
p. Neither I nor anyone I knew knew anyone who had ever actually spoken to a
nyone at the magazine. No one knew how the magazine got written. No one knew
anyone who actually would pay to read it.
"You have no idea," I said, and walked Michelle into my office to lie down o
n my couch. Michelle's reaction to her incredible imploding reading had pass
ed beyond mere depression and moved into the region of pharmaceutically untr
eatable mental states. I urged her to take a nap before she went to have lat
ex splotzed all over her face.
"We should have packed a lunch," Miranda said. "I'm hungry already."
"What's odd?" I say.
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