90
R. Linda:
Sully indeed. No matter what you think, I have no interest in Ms. Alison. Especially after setting me up in the Kremlin. As to your theory she can't wait to get me on her couch, well, I have never set foot inside Ali's apartment that I can remember anyway, so I don't know where anything is. We all seemed to congregate at either me place or Tonya's. I think I'd be scared to step inside knowing what I do of Ali's cousin, one Nadia, owner of Pee cat. For you to suggest she has ulteriour intentions on yours truly, well R. Linda, we should be reading Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment instead of this exercise in romantic frustration. I think The Notebook is inserting subliminal ideas in your mind, and that is trouble.
Just for the record, I haven't a romantic bone in me body that I know of. When it comes to making romantic dinners, I have been told cold takeout from McDonald's doesn't quite cut it. Me saving grace be that I know just enough about women not to get trapped.
I be aware Ali didn't ask why I was coming back. I know most would, Tonya did, but that doesn't mean she's romantically inclined now does it? Or, does it?
Yes, the Argie person and wooly thingee are still residing in the first floor studio. I have no desire to reacquaint meself with her, but I know I will have no choice once she sees me. I dread the ambush already. If I come up missing, you know I be stuffed in her toy box. I do believe once rescued I would be residing in a sanitarium with a diet of soft foods and probably drooling the words, "help me" over and over. That is a scary thought of yours and you know what? I almost prefer being stuffed in Flanigan's freezer to Argiebelle's toy box. You are diabolical of thought and I for one, am glad you don't write to Ms. Belle and give her those kinds of ideas.
I did manage to get the elusive Ms. Tonya on the phone last evening. She tells me not to listen to Alison's ravings on Mr. Flanigan and the missing Mr. O'Malley. She said I should know by now that drama runs in Alison's Russian roots and "please pay THAT no mind." Well, hell how can I not when I look around the creepy palace I be living in? I swear it is infested, yes infested with creepy-crawlies that come out in the dead of night when I be deep asleep from fright and exhaustion. I believe they do things to me when I be unconscious and I don't know what those things are, but each morning I wake up thankful to see another day (even if there is no light in the place), with a feeling of relieved, yes, relieved foreboding.
Alison's mind can be on the dark side and overactive to the max. Can you imagine a man in a freezer in MY building? Where does she come from? I mean come on now. I can see ME saying something like that after living where I do, but Alison is in sunny Boston for heaven's sake, and there is no gloom and doom in Boston unless you are a Democrat watching the Republican governor cut all those programmes you worked so hard to pass.
On the reading of aforementioned book, I notice there are no chapter numbers, instead titles. So that means I will stop at Reunion. I started the first chapter I guess if that's what it is (about the old man reading to the Alzheimer woman). I will say, not a bad lead in, but that is somewhat depressing don't you think? I see I must get meself a box of tissues and soon. I do get the idea that we are about to read the notebook the old man has through his narration of events which chronicle him and the woman in the bed. There's a mouthful. Uhhh, I be starting to sniffle up already. Let me shove me finger down me throat.
I will say thus far, the book is written for a young and impressionable mind, easily drawn to simple words. I agree we could breeze through this drivel in record time, only the powers that be have me working me arse off so no time to breeze.
You want us to read Snow White together? I saw the cartoon! There is something that smacks of paedophilia with seven old and dirty minded little men and a young girl. I don't know, but I be not liking your suggestions. Women needing rescue from seven dirty old men doesn't do it for me.
I be to the commissary to see if there be a box of tissues to purchase. ;(
Gabe
Copyright © 2004 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
Sully indeed. No matter what you think, I have no interest in Ms. Alison. Especially after setting me up in the Kremlin. As to your theory she can't wait to get me on her couch, well, I have never set foot inside Ali's apartment that I can remember anyway, so I don't know where anything is. We all seemed to congregate at either me place or Tonya's. I think I'd be scared to step inside knowing what I do of Ali's cousin, one Nadia, owner of Pee cat. For you to suggest she has ulteriour intentions on yours truly, well R. Linda, we should be reading Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment instead of this exercise in romantic frustration. I think The Notebook is inserting subliminal ideas in your mind, and that is trouble.
Just for the record, I haven't a romantic bone in me body that I know of. When it comes to making romantic dinners, I have been told cold takeout from McDonald's doesn't quite cut it. Me saving grace be that I know just enough about women not to get trapped.
I be aware Ali didn't ask why I was coming back. I know most would, Tonya did, but that doesn't mean she's romantically inclined now does it? Or, does it?
Yes, the Argie person and wooly thingee are still residing in the first floor studio. I have no desire to reacquaint meself with her, but I know I will have no choice once she sees me. I dread the ambush already. If I come up missing, you know I be stuffed in her toy box. I do believe once rescued I would be residing in a sanitarium with a diet of soft foods and probably drooling the words, "help me" over and over. That is a scary thought of yours and you know what? I almost prefer being stuffed in Flanigan's freezer to Argiebelle's toy box. You are diabolical of thought and I for one, am glad you don't write to Ms. Belle and give her those kinds of ideas.
I did manage to get the elusive Ms. Tonya on the phone last evening. She tells me not to listen to Alison's ravings on Mr. Flanigan and the missing Mr. O'Malley. She said I should know by now that drama runs in Alison's Russian roots and "please pay THAT no mind." Well, hell how can I not when I look around the creepy palace I be living in? I swear it is infested, yes infested with creepy-crawlies that come out in the dead of night when I be deep asleep from fright and exhaustion. I believe they do things to me when I be unconscious and I don't know what those things are, but each morning I wake up thankful to see another day (even if there is no light in the place), with a feeling of relieved, yes, relieved foreboding.
Alison's mind can be on the dark side and overactive to the max. Can you imagine a man in a freezer in MY building? Where does she come from? I mean come on now. I can see ME saying something like that after living where I do, but Alison is in sunny Boston for heaven's sake, and there is no gloom and doom in Boston unless you are a Democrat watching the Republican governor cut all those programmes you worked so hard to pass.
On the reading of aforementioned book, I notice there are no chapter numbers, instead titles. So that means I will stop at Reunion. I started the first chapter I guess if that's what it is (about the old man reading to the Alzheimer woman). I will say, not a bad lead in, but that is somewhat depressing don't you think? I see I must get meself a box of tissues and soon. I do get the idea that we are about to read the notebook the old man has through his narration of events which chronicle him and the woman in the bed. There's a mouthful. Uhhh, I be starting to sniffle up already. Let me shove me finger down me throat.
I will say thus far, the book is written for a young and impressionable mind, easily drawn to simple words. I agree we could breeze through this drivel in record time, only the powers that be have me working me arse off so no time to breeze.
You want us to read Snow White together? I saw the cartoon! There is something that smacks of paedophilia with seven old and dirty minded little men and a young girl. I don't know, but I be not liking your suggestions. Women needing rescue from seven dirty old men doesn't do it for me.
I be to the commissary to see if there be a box of tissues to purchase. ;(
Gabe
Copyright © 2004 All rights reserved