"Nutmeg." I repeat, perhaps a bit sheepishly. "That woman smelled like banana bread."

"Yeah, pins and strings and stuff. He says it's the best way to figure out who did it."

The University's Public relations department sends out a newsletter via e-mail, and it seems they have somehow put all of the addresses in a cc instead of a bcc. Now we all have a list of

I leave the apartment at five in the morning with a rolled up carpet over my shoulder. Throwing it into the trunk of the car, I drive to my office. There are not a lot of people around,

I (M49) come home with pudding, but it's just for me. AITA?

"Oh, he's a younger guy then?" I ask. "I couldn't really tell," he says. "He's white."

The shrill ringer of a phone rills on incessantly.

"Are any of your posts about anything that is worth posting about?" He asks. "If it makes me laugh, it is worth it."