It was a good day yesterday...
...but the milk's stale now: when we got the yogurt out of the fridge last nite, the door was left ajar. When I noticed it this morning, I sought out Trish to corraborate; she agreed, it's sour -- but nothing else seemed to have been affected. From now on, we're only buying 1/2 gallons of milk.
It was a good day because we both slept in, then paid the water bill, $20 apiece. We went to the bank to take out money for a new a/c for the bedroom, then to the license bureau, to destroy the possibility of ever needing to get held up in the line in a plane station & tell them ain't got no birth certificate here.
We went briefly to the Layout, where Cheri's behavior was utterly reprehensible: she laughed at Bob, encouraged others to do so. When we reported it to Perky Pam, she wanted us to file a formal complaint with Joe. Someone working professionally(?) with the mentally ill should know better.
We then went to El Taco Loco, looking for Mexican food & a place to eat; from there to Spidey-3, which seemed over-produced with too many villains, but at the same time a fairly faithful rendition of the original. From there, we went to Subway & had a turkey sandwich. Trish saved her chips for today.
Last nite, then, will number among the last we'll endure summer heat, save for that which we create together, a pointless act of love, no life comes from it; tubes tied & Loveless.
But the machine works -- well, super-kool. Today the forecast predicts mid-80s, we'll see how it runs. Then later in the month Karen's helping us find one for the living room.
This afternoon, it's back to work on GALAXIES. Creating a Mary to compensate Maria is an act of quasi-divine intervention into his characters descending from Thought into Word (no Fundies allowed) by an author who is still Jung at heart.
& cheerleading springbreakgirl (Valerie Piranha) can kiss my ass, Willow-imitator & all. We picked up a Viagra yesterday, want to experience tonite that which transcends galaxies. & supernovas burning to the very core of Creation.
It was a good day because we both slept in, then paid the water bill, $20 apiece. We went to the bank to take out money for a new a/c for the bedroom, then to the license bureau, to destroy the possibility of ever needing to get held up in the line in a plane station & tell them ain't got no birth certificate here.
We went briefly to the Layout, where Cheri's behavior was utterly reprehensible: she laughed at Bob, encouraged others to do so. When we reported it to Perky Pam, she wanted us to file a formal complaint with Joe. Someone working professionally(?) with the mentally ill should know better.
We then went to El Taco Loco, looking for Mexican food & a place to eat; from there to Spidey-3, which seemed over-produced with too many villains, but at the same time a fairly faithful rendition of the original. From there, we went to Subway & had a turkey sandwich. Trish saved her chips for today.
Last nite, then, will number among the last we'll endure summer heat, save for that which we create together, a pointless act of love, no life comes from it; tubes tied & Loveless.
But the machine works -- well, super-kool. Today the forecast predicts mid-80s, we'll see how it runs. Then later in the month Karen's helping us find one for the living room.
This afternoon, it's back to work on GALAXIES. Creating a Mary to compensate Maria is an act of quasi-divine intervention into his characters descending from Thought into Word (no Fundies allowed) by an author who is still Jung at heart.
& cheerleading springbreakgirl (Valerie Piranha) can kiss my ass, Willow-imitator & all. We picked up a Viagra yesterday, want to experience tonite that which transcends galaxies. & supernovas burning to the very core of Creation.
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