Oh, Sarah, it's like music to my c-- ears!

Cunt cunty cunt cunt. :-)

(And you don't have ebola. Be glad about that!)

I leave this little gem for you; it made MY head hurt thinking about it!

Gonzo journalism is a style of reporting based on William Faulkner's idea that the best fiction is far more true than any kind of journalism - and the best journalists have always known this. Which is not to say that fiction is necessarily 'more true' than journalism - or vice versa - but that both 'fiction' and 'journalism' are artificial categories; and that both forms, at their best, are only two different means to the same end.
-- Hunter S. Thompson

Truth artificial? Stranger than fiction? Neither is real? Both are but a dream within a dream? Oh, but all this hinges on the supposition that journalism is truth, and it isn't always. Yeesh, where's my aspirin!

Dear sweet mother of GOD! It's Maria VonTrapp! I may begin projectile vomiting now lest someone not get me my insulin to combat such a sickeningly sweet convergence.

Once I stabilize, we all must decide what do you do with a problem like Maria.

Um... Jodi... Just to clarify, the lotion for your feet would be Jergens cooling lotion with cucumber extract, or somesuch. It wouldn't be my special "lotion" I would "lovingly produce", as it were.

Talk about "toe jam" and "Foot-Joy".

(These comments would be so much better if I could link to a sound effect of a rim-shot.)

((NO, not a "rim-job" either... [more perverts linking to Jodi now]))

Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudels
Door bells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles
Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings
These are a few of my favorite things

Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes
Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes
Silver white winters that melt into springs
These are a few of my favorite things

When the dog bites, when the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad.

I once thought a life of prancing might be, at least in some small way, unfulfilling.

The foolishness of youth . . .

Tess: You know that made my morning. And the rest of my day. Fantastic!

Pete: That you can see elegance where others would see clumsiness, and describe a seal's eyes as limpid where others would say "it's just a seal" make me give you my, uh, seal of approval. (OK, so even I'm cringing.)

Dan: That's positively gorgeous. That's the way I like to see the sun.

Thomas: Positively scrumptious! I just hope I don't see Albert Brooks and Meryl Streep (a la "Defending Your Life") when I leave my apartment later.

Aaron: I slept through it!!! (And Rufus tried to give me a foot massage using the lotion Thomas so lovingly provided!)

Rufus (feat. Chaka Khan) is (are?) going to be performing live...in your kitchen!!!

Jodi... Jodi honey... Your fruit will be ice cold chilled any time you want to get out of your satin sheeted bed. The room is set at 70 degrees and the lotion for your foot massage is at room temperature. Afterwards, I've booked the gym exclusively for you, and you alone.

I also handed out "no scent" deodorant to everyone in New York, and made everyone wear clean, comfortable robes that conceal, All except the hottest guys and girls who have been given cards with truly intelligent and meaningful comments in case you wish to engage them in conversation.

Good morning!

Every year a colony of grey seals descends on one of the beaches near to my parents' home. To the untrained eye they sit there and do nothing.

I think that they are cute. The one displayed here is a notably elegant looking female that I bumped into. Check out those limpid eyes.

Brenda made "Pepsi" a little scratching post with toys that hang from it. She plays with it for hours, jumping and leaping, trying to catch the bouncing toys. It's adorable. She's gaining weight, and doesn't run from people anymore. She's the light of my mom's life, and I'm sure, vice versa.

The German Shepherd from next door, the one I called Animal Control on, has been out of his cage daily since then. In fact, they rarely lock him in anymore, instead, keeping the door to his cage open so he can go in and out as he pleases. His eye has healed, he's gained weight and he seems to always have a big bucket of water now. I still throw him treats over the fence and the owners have even started talking to us again.

Hope that makes your morning. :)

Oh, and I'm glad you're the kind of person that can take joy in knowing of these kinds of things.