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The List Blog—Sound your Barbaric Yawp:
Simmered shredded pork tacos with guajillo/tomatillo sauce?— October 8, 2009 12:14 p.m.
The List Blog—Sound your Barbaric Yawp:
Well, #10 can be arranged for sure. We did a Reader meet up a few months ago, and there are certainly more folk gathering. Let's figure something out, peeps! For #7: What kind of job would you have Pete?— October 8, 2009 12:10 p.m.
Let's Play A Game!
"I remember you saying this about the piano-bar singing." Awww, that means you read my very first blog :) And Pete--I'm sure you can give three fun or silly things, and they don't have to be momentous, or ruin your future blogs. The more you write, the better--right?— October 8, 2009 11:51 a.m.
The List Blog—Sound your Barbaric Yawp:
These are the best, biggest PMS rants--ever--thanks, Cuddle! I love the frequent conclusion of "oh, how hateful!" I'm going to have to copy down a few for our lazier readers, who may be unable to lift their finger to click on the link (really, how distasteful!): * One is just about to be told some interesting piece of news when a baby starts crying. * One has gone to bed and is about to doze off when a mosquito appears, announcing himself in a reedy voice. One can actually feel the wind made by his wings, and, slight though it is, one finds it hateful in the extreme. * A carriage passes by with a nasty, creaking noise. Annoying to think that the passengers may not even be aware of this! If I am traveling in someone's carriage and I hear it creaking, I dislike not only the noise but the owner of the carriage. * Indeed, one's attachment to a man depends largely onthe elegance of his leave-taking. When he jumps out of bed, scurries about the room, tightly fastens his trouser-sash, rolls up the sleeves of his Court cloak, over-robe, or hunting costume, stuffs his belongings into the breast of his robe and then briskly secures the outer sash -- one really begins to hate him. and this one has got to be the best! * Fleas too, are very hateful. When they dance about under someone's clothes, they really seem to be lifting them up.— October 8, 2009 11:33 a.m.
And Now, For Something A Bit Lighter...
refried's idea!— October 8, 2009 11:18 a.m.
Let's Play A Game!
Oh gosh, this is a list game too. Sorry, Cuddle, didn't mean to-- 1. My polydactal Maine Coon is really my best friend. 2. I have sung piano-bar style in the lobby of Mercy Hospital, hooked up to an IV. 3. I can read Pike's thoughts while he is hearing my thoughts as I read his.— October 8, 2009 11:16 a.m.
The List Blog—Sound your Barbaric Yawp:
Ah ha, coming right up, ma'am! Now, there is just the small matter of the check--a tiny list, perhaps? A tiny list outlining how/when/what/why about the "who" we know to be Tom Robbins? Tell me about that Robbins, and you'll get yer Baskins, Lady! :)— October 8, 2009 11:01 a.m.
Such Gravity
No--his work is only bikes? Painting them?— October 8, 2009 10:57 a.m.
And Now, For Something A Bit Lighter...
...and I think I just figured out that "spilt milk" metaphor--the "GREAT" Milky Way, as it were--or--how did those old gods procreate? Pretty pretty messily...— October 8, 2009 10:42 a.m.
I Like Lists
Somebody pour this Lady a drink! :)— October 8, 2009 10:37 a.m.