Another Night in Paradise

Well, Grumpy just peeled himself out of the comfy chair and went to bed, after aurally assaulting me with Sonic Symphony Opus #114. All in all, it was a pretty good night for us. Only four or five neighbors complained about his snoring tonight (winter weather, shut windows). He kissed the cat goodnight, scratched me behind the ears, and staggered off to bed for a couple of hours. As usual, I am wide-eyed silently screamingly wakeful. I want to sing! I want to dance! I want to change the world; climb mountains, cross seas--or at the very least, shop. Why can't the world run on vampire time? Though I drink only the blood of dead medium-rare cows, I can readily identify with the vampire's need to be awake while the rest of the world sleeps.

My Queendom for an all-night bookstore with a bourbon bar! Imagine if you will, a building positively groaning on its foundation from the weight of words bound in paper, leather, and cloth. Studded with cushiony velvet chairs with handy hassocks and end tables, classical music softly playing, the smell of cinnamon buns, freshly brewed coffee, tea and hot chocolate floating by... Oh, heaven is just a short drive away! (In my dreams.)

Ah, yes. As I curl up with my literary selections, a handsome young cabana boy brings me a tray of hot chocolate and cinnamon buns. Then, with a merry wink and a smile that shows off his dimples, he says, "And I thought Madame might enjoy this." And with a flourish, he tucks a white linen napkin about my lap, as he sets a fragrant goblet of Maker's Mark at my elbow.

Aaahh... A girl can dream...

Reading the Funny Papers

I can scarcely believe this. Did I write this whilst in a drunken stupor, and send it in to Ann Landers's replacements?







*actual Annie's Mailbox letter, January 5, 2007*



* Dear Annie:

I am a 15-year-old female, and I'm addicted to porn. Not so much the porn in pictures, but porn in stories. I know I shouldn't be reading this kind of stuff, but I can't seem to stop. Sure, for a month or two I can go without, but then I get back into the habit. I read these stories on the Internet.

Everyone thinks I am such a good girl. I don't want to spoil the image or disappoint my parents. I know I should tell them, so they can help me overcome this addiction, but I'm afraid I'll lose their trust ( and my Internet access.)

Things are starting to get worse because lately, I've been looking at pictures and want someone to touch me. The desire is getting stronger every day. Do you have any suggestions about how to tell my parents that their good daughter may not be as good as they think? I feel so guilty and untrustworthy --Bad Good Girl.






Holy crap. I am in love. Whoever wrote the above, snuck into my brain and stole all my snark. I melt. Ooooh....