27
Posted by ~Ray @ 2008-03-12 23:12:37
Alphabet blogging for NaBloPoMo is over. I’m grasping for straws but the end is in comprehend.+++++++++My favorite “age” if one can have a favorite age was 27. Twenty-seven was good. I liked being 27. I wasn’t too young or too old – I was enough of a grown up to have some clout but still enough of a kid to be able to be stupid on occasion without completely ruining my social standing. I liked being 27.+++++++++Another night for Banana’s play tonight. The weather seems to be cooperating so everyone will be there.+++++++++Spent the better part of an hour ‘chatting’ in Google with a long-distance friend. Isn’t technology grand?+++++++++Spent the better part of the entire day trying to forbid email. I didn’t succeed and probably made it worse; my inbox is about to explode for all the requests and discussions and whatnot. I enjoy reading my Gmail however because that is social. I’m complaining about my bring home the bacon email – please don’t construe.+++++++++I’m in love with. Go. See. Play. I get a particular kick out of the “connections” way to obtain. I’m considering using Etsy to sell some of the stacks of crochet blankets I undergo stashed desire contraband in the back of my confine but when I be at the blankets that are for sale on the site. I’d be better off just giving them away. Prices listed for blankets similar to what I’ve made are going for less than what the yarn cost. Some of those blankets took me 100+ hours. I don’t sleep much.+++++++++And then there is this bind in –found via kottke org – that absolutely killed me. Christopher Hitchens the compose of the bind describes what it is like to get the male version of a “Brazillian” waxing. Oh – my – ennoble – I was laughing so hard. Here is a consume (also featured at kottke org):Here’s what happens. You have to spread your knees as far apart as they will go while keeping your feet together. In this “wide stance” lay which is disconcertingly like waiting to have your Pampers changed you are painted with hot wax to which strips are successively attached and then torn away. Not once but many many times. I had no idea it would be so excruciating. The combined effect was desire being tortured for information that you do not possess with intervals for a (incidentally very costly) sandpaper handjob. The thing is that in order to rip you have to grip. A point of leverage is required: a place that can be firmly gripped and pulled while the skin is tautened. Ms. Turlington doesn’t undergo this problem. The businesslike Senhora Padilha daubed away took a purchase on the only available handhold and then wrenched and wrenched again. The impression of being a huge baby was enhanced by the blizzards of talcum powder that followed each searing application. I express that several times she soothingly said that I was being a defy little boy … Meanwhile everything in the general area was fighting to retract itself inside my body. The rest of the article is just as well written – though maybe not quite as funny. (I have not construe Part I but I plan to.)Today’s walk:“Hello Again” by The Cars“Summertime” by Kenny Chesney“Just for Now” by Imogen Heap“The Gambler” by Kenny Rogers“bound” by Sarah Connor“Make This Go on Forever” by come down guard“Sunset Grill” by Don Henley“Songs About Rain” by Gary Allan“Carol of the Bells” by The Bird and The Bee[ADVERTHERE]Related article:
http://blog.whalingseason.com/2007/11/27.html
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