Listening to: The Young Rascals, Groovin'
Say hello to Aqua-Melina, a woman I've long admired, read, and often drooled over but who has, until today, neglected my sick and needy desire for reciprocation. It would be senseless to go into the sleepless nights I've spent wondering "Why? Why?" but the comely and comedic Melina has finally assured me that I can sleep well, tonight.
Now, if I could only use these powers of pusuasion to prevent my children from taking magnetic letters off the refrigerator door and sticking them into the tape slot of my VCR.
Go see Melina and express your ecstatic joy at her having finally given me the love we all know I need.
In other news, I'm still hammering away at Marni's Birthday Post, doing so in the spirit of The Zero Boss "Blogging For Books" contest. It didn't start out that way but as I got into typing my thoughts about my middle one turning four-years old, it occured to me that my style was echoing what I was reading in William Faulkner's "Go Down, Moses" (read piece-meal during my daily constitutional). Hopefully that will be done tonight and you can let me know if I'm anywhere near Faulknerian stream-of-consciousness.
Oh wait. I should probably be conscious to let it stream. Damn.