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Excerpt from mail sent in 1998
The other day, the UCSF/UCB shuttle was crowded. It was so crowded that a woman actually sat down next to me. Within seconds, I had constructed an elaborate fantasy around this woman. I would sneak into her place of residence. I would go through her closets, her drawers, every place she keeps her clothes. I would take all of the mothballs, steal them away, discard them, replace them with marbles. And over time, this woman would not smell quite so much of mothballs.