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She nods. She’s looking through some old People magazines that she wants to sell for a dime apiece. “So, Billy Joel’s getting married to a fashion model,” she is saying, flipping pages. “What can you expect from a guy who writes ‘I don’t want clever conversation’ and calls that a love song.” Pretty soon Eleanor has lost it and is singing “I don’t want clever conversation, I just want gigundo buzooms.” “Kip loves Billy Joel,” she adds. “The man’s got the taste of a can opener.” It’s every man for himself out here. I
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