I have just read the awfullest piece of disability art. EVAH...the dogs-playing-poker of personal essays. Of course this guy is hugely prolific...on the upside I suppose it made my reader's report really easy to write even if it did say "Yikes!"
Spike's Bitches 26: Damn right I'm impure!
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
I have nothing really to say, but I'm dying to know what Kara meant.
One of my friend's child came to visit us once and she went on and on about wanting a pink square. We drew her pink squares, we went to a fabric store, Mr. Jane sewed a red t-shirt into a cube and bleached it a bit. Still. not happy. Finally we're at lunch at El Chicos and she comes running over to tell us she found the pink square- chicklets. We didn't tell Mr. Jane.
{{{Sean}}}
I am so tired. I managed to avoid the post-Yom Kippur headache (no sugar the past few days, and a light meal with very little sugar to break the fast), but I'm still exhausted, even after taking a three-hour nap after synagogue this afternoon.
Daisy, I'm feeling particularly stupid today, and your tag is not helping me. Who did you used to be?
Who did you used to be?
See Natter where I spill the beans.
I'll erase it soon.
DER! Hi Daisy!
(Thank you, David)
Nicole - I haven't actually *gotten* the gift certificate yet, but I'm thinking of the Wicked soundtrack...and then I'm open to suggestions.
Yeah, sorry. I got a job with a national presence, so I'm a little more nervous about having my name out there.
No kidding. It opened when I was living in Boston in 1984.
Holy crap! ManRay opened the year I started college at BU? Huh.
Wow. I was 9. My first time at Man Ray was 1990. Sniff. Memories...