3 November 1996

The Hierarchy of Aches

Poor Roberto. He's just sitting there pulling petals off a flower. "She loves me; she loves me not." She loves him not, or at least not as much as Carlos. Adrianna has moved in with Carlos and they're making babies ... or at least one.

Roberto would be pathetic if he weren't so pitiful. Or maybe it's the other way around. I'm going to convince Roberto to drink half this bottle of whiskey, even if it means I have to drink the other half. What are friends for, anyway? I predict Roberto will feel better tomorrow morning when his head hurts worse than his heart.