Yuk, yuk, yuk, Bev.
Hat
Robert chose a rather jaunty beret for the excursion. Anna said, "Lunch at my club will be easy." She was a member by virtue of being old Atlanta, not because she'd paid the current five-figure membership fee. The dining room was a sea of blue hair punctuated by the occasional table of dark-suited businessmen. The tuxedoed maitre d' who had served her Shirley Temples 30 years before hurried over and whispered, "Miss Anna, your guest needs to remove his hat." She replied loudly, "He can't. He has cancer." As they sat down, their helpless tears of laughter dropped into their melting frozen fruit salads.
Very pointy, Ginger. Nicely done.
Any available readers for chapter 3 final and chapter 4 draft today or tonight?
Mostly need four. Ate my brain. Too preachy maybe.
Allyson I'd love to read your stuff. I'm lagarat at gmail.
Venting quietly in here, because if I vent where this happened, I will be looked upon as a Green Meanie of the highest order. But seriously, who on earth thinks it's okay to break their longtime lurking on a professional writers' loop with a post asking for medical advice??
And what's worse, the number of responses/commiserations (not sure which because I was just hitting delete like a madwoman) was absolutely astounding. A post asking a legit writing question goes virtually ignored while the medical advice brings on all comers. And again, professional writers loop.
::facepalms::
Allyson, if you still need a pair of eyes, shoot it to me. Oh, what am I saying, I want to read it anyway, if it's okay with you.
And Barb, that's appalling. But somehow I'm not surprised.
You know, I have this rash.....
You know, I have this rash.....
Pbbbbbbbblllllllltttttttt
(Or, if My Big Fat Greek Wedding advice is to be believed, a spritz of Windex will clear that right up.)
Allyson, you can send it to me too. I may be busy but I'm not too busy for you.
