So last night around 11:00 pm I was rudely awoken because Granny was screaming "Rachel! RACHEL! RACHEL!"
I of course assumed she was dying, bleeding, barfing, or whatever and leapt out of bed and went running to her, prepared to call 911. She was all thin and gasping and generally looking pretty pitiful, and she said to me...
"I want a cup of coffee and a peanut butter sandwich."
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Oh yeah, I'm writing for Gawker now
12 years ago
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