Why Does My Room Smell Like Baloney?
After four days away, I open the door and am almost blown back by the odor of baloney. A room can sometimes be a leftover terrarium. Where things went wrong this time, I'm not sure. I haven't had baloney in weeks. Nevertheless, it induced waves of housekeeping guilt and shame. There's a piece somewhere in my 8x10 room and finding it is going to take excavation of the kind I'm unwilling to do. Feh - I can learn to live with it till I move. UPDATE: I just realized my room is playing hide the baloney with me - hey oh!
Today is simply gorgeous! It's mild and mostly sunny with a chance of Falun Gong on lower Broadway. I love their Science of Torture Fair set up. The grammatical but extremely awkward signs. And they're either maiming their practitioners for real or doing a great job with the injury make up.
My friend Henry and I decided we like good-looking people -- except when they're beating us. While we were chatting on the phone, a group of thugs, all possessing good looks, approached Hank's car at a red light. Though he wanted to learn more about them, perhaps over a fruit and walnut salad from McDonald's, he was anxious for the light to change. You're not supposed to gawk at your attacker. If you're getting mugged, you want your wits about you. You don't want to be distracted by the most dazzling pair of eyelashes -- instead of heeding your mugger's order to give him/her your fucking wallet or he/she will blow your fucking brains out. If that happens, remind your assailant that crime doesn't pay, but modeling does. Now work it, bitch!
Today is simply gorgeous! It's mild and mostly sunny with a chance of Falun Gong on lower Broadway. I love their Science of Torture Fair set up. The grammatical but extremely awkward signs. And they're either maiming their practitioners for real or doing a great job with the injury make up.
My friend Henry and I decided we like good-looking people -- except when they're beating us. While we were chatting on the phone, a group of thugs, all possessing good looks, approached Hank's car at a red light. Though he wanted to learn more about them, perhaps over a fruit and walnut salad from McDonald's, he was anxious for the light to change. You're not supposed to gawk at your attacker. If you're getting mugged, you want your wits about you. You don't want to be distracted by the most dazzling pair of eyelashes -- instead of heeding your mugger's order to give him/her your fucking wallet or he/she will blow your fucking brains out. If that happens, remind your assailant that crime doesn't pay, but modeling does. Now work it, bitch!
posted by claudia at 7:47 PM
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