Wednesday, December 07, 2011
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Inside: Photos of eyeballs, bees, eyeballs, blue hands, and eyeballs. Also inside: Thoughts I want you to read and to live by and, when especially inspired, to set to opera. Also inside: my fight against vegetable tyranny. Just a little something I do so you don’t have to. You're welcome. Come on in and get your jibber jabber on!
4 comments:
Who was the, um, the nice lady handing out the flowers?
The nice lady is Golden Girl. You know, the one from whom we shall part no more.
Golden Girl and I once lived together (for ninety seconds or so) in Asheville, NC, when I was there with my buddies Jeff and Harvey. As they will be willing to attest, Golden Girl cherished the truth that I alone, among the three of us--and frankly among all of humanity--truly understood her goldenness and accepted her for the goldenness that was Golden Girl.
As one of the aforementioned buddies, I can confirm Mike's version of events--I think they bonded on a molecular level. At one point, I wondered If the Mikester was going to paint himself gold and live out his years on the streets of Asheville.
I see. So suddenly he turned into Auric Goldfinger. "I must have her, I must have everything golden..."
And here, I just thought she was attractive.
A.
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