happy birthday Zanti!

You are so dangerous!

The worst is all the lovely weather.

Someone Great

cotton not tasty like da woolens.

moar funny pictures

curious.

There was a bra hanging from a lighting fixture in the reading room of our library night before last.  Nobody knows a thing about it. Under the bra, the chairs were all moved around willy-nilly. It was a black bra, of a large cup, the size unknown due to a washed-out label.

head traumas to keep you awake.

In between films in our Spanish Scary Movie Double Feature, I hit my head on a table in the basement, looking for Hallowe’en decorations, and emerged with a lump the size of half a devilled egg. I asked Flame to ask me who the president was, but he said i’d just get too depressed at the answer.

gala

I just rubbed an apple on my upper chest, like old hayseeds did in black and white hollywood flicks. I feel a certain kinship with Walter Brennan.

By the way, Fondue goes with Xanadu.

The Days Dwindle Down

WFMU’s website has a lovely gathering of many, many versions of Weill’s “September Song”.

Listen Here.

sparseness of beard; delicate of feature.

I do believe in my heart that Ken Burns is intersexed. Just putting that out there for pondering.

it all comes out in the wash

Sometimes babies toss their organic chickpea meal all over your nice jolly ruched shirt, and sometimes you don’t have a spare shirt along with, so you watch Xanadu and eat cheese fondue with baby toss all over your shirt, and it’s okay.

whatever, john galt

I don’t know if I can read Atlas Shrugged, as the word “Taggart” displeases me so.

My mother was always prodding me to read Ayn Rand in High School. Now she offers me Southern Chick Lit.