Slow news week, eh? Here’s when I turned off the TV:
“Dame Elizabeth Taylor has released a statement saying she can’t release a statement at this time.”
I can't be the only one who knew Michael Jackson would die early. He was a tortured, unhealthy soul and here's hoping he's finally at peace.
Here’s good things Friday:
Texting Jim about Michael Jackson yesterday:
Jim: “I wonder how he died.”
Me: “Who nose?”
Mudbone, sitting next to me on the train this morning: “I used to bleach myself,” he says. “They used to sell it down South. That bleaching agent was poplar.”
Jim texting me Richard Pryor quotes from Boston all morning (And I’m prayin’ to God I ain’t gotta kiss nothin’.)
The Grandfather from Heidi (Shirley Temple version) sitting next to me on the train last night, talking dirty to his spouse: “You keep feeling better like this, Sweetie, and tomorrow maybe we can make noises.”
This e-mail exchange from early yesterday:
To: Jim, You Know Who, Mrs. You Know Who
From: Hedy
Farrah Fawcett was only two years younger than my mom. There’s a joke in there somewhere.
To: Jim, Mrs. You Know Who, Hedy
From: You Know Who
Unlike Farrah’s, I still have the swimsuit/nipple poster of your mom in my room.
Another fabulous weekend visit with Nelson, Kyra, and Chad.
A fabulous but way-too-quick visit with Susie and her family.
Shopping at the Little Traveler with Suze on a Monday afternoon.
Impromptu post-charm school drinks with Jim, Corb & Debbie at the Caboose bar in Geneva
“Sticky tits”
Realizing that saying yes increases my energy
Swimming at night with Grommie and the stars
A text just now from Kathleen, our recruiting goddess: “You in the office yet? Feel like going to the Cubs/Sox game today?”
Going to the Cubs/Sox game on a beautiful Friday afternoon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am listening to: Mudbone yapping into his phone
I am reading: Nothing
And I am: Smiley
3 weeks ago
1 comments:
“Sticky tits”
I'm almost SCARED to know what the HELL that means ...
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