Why, O why does the Amsterdam of my dreams always include a fictitious museum district between the Red Light district and the outer canals? And why, in my recent dreams of the place, is my mother always there? (I like traveling with my mom, but I don't think either of us would much enjoy a trip to Amsterdam together.)
The paper didn't come again this morning. I had to cover a 9am-11am shift at the church, so I was up too early to notice the quality of my coffee. I did manage to compose this ditty, with deepest apologies to Dorothy Parker:
O life is a comforting, cushioning pad
Whose days seldom offer much drama;
And love is a thing that can never go bad,
And I am Michelle R. Obama.
Oh, and happy birthday to Neil. Take me birding on your Jet-Ski in my dreams again soon, OK?
The paper didn't come again this morning. I had to cover a 9am-11am shift at the church, so I was up too early to notice the quality of my coffee. I did manage to compose this ditty, with deepest apologies to Dorothy Parker:
O life is a comforting, cushioning pad
Whose days seldom offer much drama;
And love is a thing that can never go bad,
And I am Michelle R. Obama.
Oh, and happy birthday to Neil. Take me birding on your Jet-Ski in my dreams again soon, OK?
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Could you give me the quote where you mention Beetlejuice and the conclusion of Lydia conforming to the preppiness? I could do with it…
yoo RITE!!
Gotta lotta
extraordinary
exponential
exactly.
Wannum?
G+:
discover:
kold_kadavr_ flatliner