“They say best men moulded out of faults;
And, for the most, become much more the better
For being a little bad” (Marianna in Shakespeare’s [i]Measure for Measure[/i], Act V, scene i)
Yeah, that’s a good quote, and it can be taken in or out of context. Almost like it’s an excuse to be a little bad. Makes us [url=http://www.thefatguy.com/archives/004046.html]better[/url].
“I would rather just die than walk around a proper city in tennis shoes.”
Okay, one more:
“Shoes are like relationships?”
Me: “Huh?”
“Sure. They should come in the right size, they should be sexy and comfortable, and you shouldn’t take them dancing on the first night. Matter of fact, you shouldn’t wear them too long the first time. And one pair just doesn’t do for all occasions.”
Then, sister piped in, “Hey do these jeans make my butt look fat?”
Sister and me, we got “psychic readings” together. At the same time, anyway. Here’s the weird part: the reader I drew? He was about a week off from my birthday. Sagittarius. Yeah, we are the greatest. (Unless, of course, there’s a Leo around – they are always the best.) Learned some new tricks, that’s always fun. But I did regret whoever had to read for Sister, as she was a little wired. What was I thinking?
A sign I saw, down on the coast, “Unattended children will be given two shots of espresso and a new puppy.”
Which reminds me of my most recent favorite sport? Give Sister a big cup of coffee – at least two shots of espresso.
“I haven’t had any wheat, meat, flour, or caffeine in six months, you know. Can I have that roast beef sandwich?”
High tea. I kept asking for those “little biscuits.”
I was trying to explain how to use Shakespeare lines to attract lovers, helping Sister out, and she kept coming up with, “Love looks not with the mind but with the eyes.” This will never work.
[b]That[/b] [url=http://www.jerryspringertheopera.com/]OPERA[/URL] again. Sure. [url=http://astrofish.net/weblog/comments.php?id=P787_0_1_0_C]It’s so damn fun.[/url]
That opera is just the best.
What was left over from high-tea became a late night snack. Which eventually became a contest between siblings with various gaseous emissions.
Yeah, well, a lot more happened, but the facts, as well as some of what really transcribed?
“Fetchez la vache!” (John Cleese line, I think.)