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A curly-haired blonde named Erica read a handful of her poems. I liked a few, but the rest were too cryptic. One about L.A. was interesting: "Where the cars seethe by like mechanical lemmings/as their fumes intoxicate your lungs with a ransom." It concluded: "high above the botox of the rhinoplastic playground/the moon is breaking off in great chunks."

Bonnie wrote a funny piece about a lady with Alzheimer's who was lost. In the story, after police search the area, describing the woman and her clothing to the neighbors, Bonnie decides to dress like the old lady and walk around the neighborhood.

Later, Bonnie told me that Christopher Reeve was her soul mate. In the '80s, Bonnie put a quarter into a machine at a movie theater. The machine asked her a series of questions and then spit out the name of the actor who was her soul mate. "So when he died, it wasn't just Superman dying, it was my soul mate.... It would never be."

Crash your party? Call 619-235-3000 x421 and leave an invitation for Josh Board.

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