Entreprise.

Appearantly, there are 24-hour Kinkos.

Quite innovative, if you ask me.

I've got this thing for any business that is ready and willing to commit to a 24 hour schedule.

At 2:00am last night/this morning, Dani & I set out for our paper printing excursion.

Being blissfully ignorant, I bet Dani $5 that these hypothetical Kinkos' hours simply did not exsist.

Our first destination, the Provo Kinkos, was lit and I had my wallet ready to pay up.

Fortunately, we walked straight into the locked door; unfortunately, the sign directed us to another location, Orem.

The verdict= no one paid anything.

I concluded that I have never been involved in a bet where one party was 100% correct. Somehow, someway, there are always exceptions to each side. Ie: The Provo building was closed, yet the Orem building was open. So, who is correct..? They always end in a draw. Man, what a paradox. Moral of the story: gambling sucks. Unless you are an MIT braniac named Jill Taylors (Kate Bosworth's character in 21). Along with scamming the casinos, you'll also aquire a steamy kiss from the attractive London-native, Jim Sturgess.

After arriving home, we discovered a dead, baby octopus on our staircase. I was convinced that it was a sticky, stretchy 50-arcade-tickets prize. Until I smelt it. Lorina, an avid seafood connoisseur, is frying little Octi for lunch today.