Eden M. Kennedy has acted impulsively in ways she now regrets.

Last night I was having trouble sleeping* and I started trying to think of sports celebrities whose names, just by changing out a letter or two, could be easily turned into office supplies. I started out with Kenny Stapler**, but then I couldn't think of any more, so I decided that Kenny Stapler was on the desk of an accountant named Bob Costus, but then it changed to a pawn shop so his partner could be Karl Maloan. Then I decided they'd be in England so that their toilet could be named Tyronn Loo. Then I fell asleep.

*There appears to be a train driver, or engineer, or whoever gets to blow the horn on a train, who hates Santa Barbara, and who tries to wake up the entire town whenever he comes through. I once read where a single scooter traveling through Paris at night can wake up up to 200,000 people.

**Sometimes if I'm writing (longhand) while I'm tired I'll transpose lowercase p, b, and d. What's more interesting, to me at least, is when I do the same thing while typing. Those keys aren't even close to each other.

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