January 31, 2007
Do you know Bruce Botts?
le sommelier de Lopez
Are you fortunate enough to have ever met this man?
I'd say the background is red.
Posted by phoebeg at 11:28 PM | Comments (0)
forcing the memory
to find a reason or a promise.
or any trace, a smudge or a footprint.
Hello People, I am 14 years old, and attend NOVA middle school. I am a Seattle anarchist interested in youth rights, ending of war between states, and, of course, the destruction of the corrupt authoritarian state -Love
from this site: The Seattle Anarchy meet-up.
Or this one, from the Discordians meet-up page:
Hello one and all, I never knew there were so many of us. Well, it goes to show you: where leaps the stag, so leaps it's shadow. P.S. fnord!
Guy Robichaud Seattle, WA 98115 All consensual crimes ("victimless crimes") shouldn't be crimes, nor should our society accept any kind of morals into legislation
(Guy was probably barely 13 when he signed that one )
and also: Tom Lunt
and it's possible that these are two of the very last images taken
of Guy and my daughter.
why do I do this?
does it help me understand differently, or better?
Posted by phoebeg at 01:16 PM | Comments (0)
Guy's memorial
a decoration from the cake, which was in the shape of a big pink hat. Guy liked to wear hats.
click below for eulogies by this young man's parents
Guy's father's words:
Early in my courtship of Guy’s mother, Elizabeth, while we were in journalism school in Missouri, even before our first date, I asked her what she wanted to do when she was finished with school. Her simple reply was “I want to be a mommy.” No pretense of wanting to be the managing editor for the New York Times or a correspondent in Beirut, just the plain truth.
And so it began as a negotiation of the terms of marriage, a prenuptial agreement, if you will, to have one child. At the time I guess I thought that I was the one compromising and giving in. Now I know that it was by far the best deal of my life. For as profoundly painful as Guy’s death is, it would have been far worse to have not shared Guy’s presence for these past 16 years, and for this I am eternally grateful to Liz.
I have experienced a love I would never have reached without Guy. It is a love that will stay with me always and make me feel more fully. Guy’s spirit flows through me. I feel him when I walk through the fields, when I touch my wife sweetly on her cheek, and especially when I remember the life of this beautiful manchild.
Guy lived life with a gentle intensity. He once declared he was the happiest boy at his school . Guy’s energy and love were not diminished by sharing. Now that he is dead his energy is free to reside in those he loved and who loved him. All of us are better because of his presence.
There is no greater love than a parent’s for his child. It is a gift to the parent more that the child. I love my wife dearly, but she it not of my flesh. She and I love each other in a complimentary way; we strengthen each others weaknesses. We are stronger as a couple than as individuals. But Guy expanded our capacity to love and experience. He has given us a fuller, richer foundation with which to continue our lives. He has made us so much better, and man should be judged by how much he has changed people for the better. Guy is in me and I will be more alive because of his presence. Each of you who he touched will live fuller more active lives.
In a way Liz and I feel very selfish having had Guy to ourselves for most of his life. In the past few years, Guy brought more people within his sphere, especially his beloved Katie. We saw that Guy was not ours to keep but to share.
His energy has rejoined the earth from whence it came, and we will all be more alive because of it. He brought so much energy and love and spread it so generously that instead of the son learning from the father, I have been lifted with Guy’s being and will always live with him in me. Guy will walk with me; he will build with me; he will be with me to the end of my days.
Guy’s life is a treasure that resides deeply in me.
Guy Robichaud is dead – Long live Guy.
Guy's mother's words:
WHAT I LEARNED FROM GUY
Guy was supposed to be a girl. Throughout my pregnancy, I planned tea parties and cookie baking and Jane Austen. But the nanosecond I laid eyes on him, I felt a shock of recognition and said, Of course: you’re the one I’ve been waiting for.
Guy’s infancy was not like the T.V. commercials for baby formula. I did not wear an exquisite peignoir in a sunlit nursery and lean serenely over a cooing baby. He had colic. He screamed and cried a lot. A lot. At the time, I mentioned this to an old guy I knew at work. He got a haunted, distant look in his eyes. “My son had colic,” he said. “It was worse than the foxholes of Korea.”
But now, looking back, I can see that it was good. For one thing, it helped us bond with him, fast and hard. There’s nothing like a baby’s crying to turn parents into instant experts on that baby as they study him minutely for clues about what’s wrong.
For another thing, the colic made his few peaceful moments dazzling and unforgettable. Like the time I was nursing Guy and enjoying the one reliable cease-fire the afternoon’s routine provided. He was about six weeks old. All of a sudden my reverie was interrupted when he unlatched from the breast too soon, when normally I would have expected at least five more minutes of peace. Oh god, what now, I thought. But instead of crying, he very intentionally turned his little baseball of a head to look straight into my eyes and transfixed me with a radiant smile that I will remember as long as I live.
And looking back, I can see that the colic was a lucky thing in another way. It taught us the hard lesson of being powerless to help the person you love most in the world but all the same knowing that you’re going to try like hell anyway. Which, as it turned out, was the ideal preparation for his cancer.
I learned so many other things from Guy during the 16 years I was lucky enough to be in his orbit. I learned that the universe is a friendly place, and that life is a glorious adventure. I learned that there is no fear, as he once wrote, if you accept the outcome as beautiful. I learned the importance of wearing a giant velvet sombrero to the opera. Most important, I learned that all of us – all of us – are innately precious, without having to do even one single thing to earn a place in this world. We’re precious just because we’re an accidental handful of cells.
I will miss my beautiful, sweet, gangly boy every day of my life. I will miss his expressive eyebrows and his radiant smile. I will miss his call-of-the-red-shafted-flicker laugh. I will miss his dear voice and the smell of his non-compulsively-washed hair. I will miss his ability to find the perfect Simpsons quotation for every occasion, his goofy drawings, and his willingness to laugh at my jokes. I will miss learning from him about how to live with joy, curiosity, spontaneity, honor, kindness, and endless generosity.
Thank you for being here today to help me miss him.
Posted by phoebeg at 01:16 PM | Comments (0)
i don't know why i bother
to alert you to such things, but I'm one of the people in a group portrait in a New York Times web slide show which accompanies an article about one of my all-time favorite artists, Aline Kominsky-Crumb, and her new book.
I'm second from the left. Extremely embarrassing. Then you have Diane Noomin (Didi Glitz) and Carol Tyler. Aline on the far left. Here's the link until they archive the article away so we can't see it anymore.
Aline's new book, Need More Love, comes out soon. I can't wait. Even though it reminds me of what a fuck-up I am. She asked me to write something for the book, and I didn't. I'll write more about this later. I have to.
Thank you David Chung for bringing this to my attention.
Posted by phoebeg at 01:15 PM | Comments (0)
in seattle again
to attend a memorial service for my nephew tomorrow. Now, it seems like I should have something to say about this, something about feelings, something sad, heartbroken, but I feel detached and numb, afraid to think of Guy's face and his laugh, the way his cheeks pulled his mouth up into such a broad grin. my heart sort of sinks when I think about that, and the aural memory of his voice, his kind sarcasm, if there is such a thing-- there was such a thing, for sure, in Guy, but I've not seen it in others.
Here's Guy helping me out with my workshop at Bumbershoot a few years ago, with the other kids, and Anne Elizabeth Moore. Guy choose the Kimmie Gives The Finger t-shirt.
And hey, thanks for all the kind comments. You guys are the tops and I wish the best wishes for you.
Posted by phoebeg at 01:15 PM | Comments (0)
My nephew died Wednesday afternoon
summer 2003
november 2006
Guy in the hospital, sleeping. drawn by his girlfriend Katie a few days before Christmas
From his Mom:
WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 03, 2007 02:26 PM, CST
Guy died peacefully this afternoon shortly after 2:00 - no pain, no drama. He was breathing hard, and Jerry told him if he wanted to go, he could go. Then he simply stopped breathing.
Posted by phoebeg at 01:14 PM | Comments (0)
upon commencing the new year
a tired sniff from PipSqueak
and one more of the same:
Posted by phoebeg at 01:13 PM | Comments (0)
waiting
the news from Guy's mother, my idol:
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 20, 2006 08:43 AM, CST
Guy had another good night, and with some brief semi-awake times. I thought an episode of The Simpsons might get through the fog in a way all our I-love-yous could not, so at 7:00 p.m., I turned on the T.V. and put the speaker gizmo next to Guy. Sure enough, he opened his eyes and looked one by one at the three faces focused breathlessly on him. When he closed his eyes again, I asked him whether he was having a good rest, and he gave a barely perceptible nod and then got back to the business of resting. We were all so happy. Around 4:00 this morning, something woke me, and I looked over to see Guy sitting up in bed with his eyes open. I went and sat next to him and put my cheek against his. He rubbed his head against mine very sweetly. I called Jerry to join us, and the three of us sat for a moment that way. I asked Guy if he wanted to go back to sleep, and just like that, he crawled back under the covers and comfortably drifted off.
Katie brought Guy his Christmas present yesterday, and what a spectacular gift it was: an enormous replica of the set of PeeWee's Playhouse from 1988, still in its original package. Along with the playhouse, she had procured 12 of the action figures designed to go with it - PeeWee, Globey, Magic Screen, Cowboy Curtis, Chairy, even the rare and coveted Miss Yvonne, the most beautiful woman in Puppetland!. It took Katie four months (and I shudder to think how much of her hard-earned QFC wages) to track down and secure all these treasures on eBay. Guy would have been over the moon. We can't bring ourselves to break the sacred bonds of the original packaging of the playhouse, but we've ranged the figures along the windowsill for all to admire.
Posted by phoebeg at 01:13 PM | Comments (0)
PipSqueak proves quite useful
Koreans living for several generations in Kazakstan and at least one living in Ann Arbor have adopted the Russian tradition of having a cat enter a new home before the family has moved in so that the cat might befriend the spirit of the house, securing the future happiness of its inhabitants.
from left to right:
pip gets straight to work, he's got his working lights on, job well done pip! i'll call your car!
a week or so ago, it was little PipSqueak who had the honor of ensuring that all would be well in the years to come for my colleague David Chung.
Posted by phoebeg at 01:13 PM | Comments (0)
Hi. I have a serious question.
what if it's really true that "those who can't do, teach?" Let's assume that this is not true, and that people who can do things are the people to teach others to do what they do. Let's get to the point. I've accomplished a few things creatively. Fine. Does that mean that I can teach others to do things similar to what I've done? Or to do any kind of non-utilitarian art at all? As a matter of fact, I don't even know how I've done anything I've done. Rather than thinking about the process, or planning anything in advance at all, I just start something and it's wrong wrong wrong so I try something different, and maybe it's sort of right, and I continue until it all seems really right in whatever way seems important to me at that point.
Now, I've used the words "it" and "something" and "right" many times in the paragraph above, and these are imprecise, vague terms. But if I got any more particular, I wouldn't be describing whatever it is I do. Or, I should say, I've done. Because, to tell you the truth, In 2.5 years of teaching, I've failed to understand how to manipulate the time I have to allow myself the time to continue to be productive creatively while still satisfying the requirements of teaching and being an assistant professor at a University. I've actually done lots of creation, I've been actively making things, and I've changed the visual component of my work significantly, but in all this time, I essentially have nothing to show, because I've finished nothing. I no longer can count on any length of uninterrupted time to think and to "make things right."
Posted by phoebeg at 01:12 PM | Comments (0)
my nephew in seattle
is sixteen, and less than a year ago he began to have very bad headaches and they gave him a test and decided to operate immediately and found that he had brain cancer of the most aggressive sort.
I love that boy. He is really smart. And charming and handsome. And wry, and sweet at the same time.
This is an essay he wrote.
Posted by phoebeg at 01:12 PM | Comments (0)
to hell with it.
This is a brave and perspicacious little girl.
but her family is poor, and all at odds with each other, you know.
Posted by phoebeg at 01:11 PM | Comments (0)
it's dark because it's nighttime
and I'm a pain in the ass to myself.
This picture- I took it three or four or five days ago, not even today, but I put it here because a picture makes me feel that I'm communicating, that I'm less constantly internal, that I have an outside and that the act of writing anything at all is a social one. With no picture the words seem austere and too comfortable in their loneliness, and I don't like that.
Posted by phoebeg at 01:11 PM | Comments (0)
the two of us agree
that it would be quite easy to be critical of ourselves in a damaging way.
we are aware, and shall try to be nice.
Posted by phoebeg at 01:11 PM | Comments (0)
and then
Jaime chose purple and green.
Posted by phoebeg at 01:10 PM | Comments (0)
I also have some pigs
these pigs were the highlight of my visit to the Michigan State Fair this year.
Posted by phoebeg at 01:10 PM | Comments (0)
my head hurts
really really a whole lot
and I only want to play around and not do those other things.
June brought me candy yesterday and I was surprised and very happy.
Posted by phoebeg at 01:10 PM | Comments (0)
for fun
but not on accident
Posted by phoebeg at 01:09 PM | Comments (0)
if i were brave enough to tell you the truth,
There is no question in my mind that I would tell you.
But that doesn't mean I'll lie to you--- it means I'll tell you something different- not different from the truth, but something other than what I wish to say and might have said were I brave enough.
I suppose I'll say that I am resisting writing an artists' statement. I don't know how and I don't want to. And that is enough to say, I think- which is why I've gone and deleted a few sentences.
Cheers from the frustrated artist in room 2070.
Posted by phoebeg at 01:09 PM | Comments (0)
tomorrow better be better
I'm going to go play on my suck-a-bye-baby nintendo DS. And yeah I'm having trouble crafting more than one sentence of a day yeah so what stress puts me into negative flourish but i get real good with my little toys.
Posted by phoebeg at 01:08 PM | Comments (0)
i am bored with myself
and will never relinquish my willingness to run away at a moment's notice.
Posted by phoebeg at 01:08 PM | Comments (0)
there's got to be something
something good or fun
or something to get into a big fight about.
Posted by phoebeg at 01:08 PM | Comments (0)
hello darling.
I'm nobody. Who are you?
zzzz
Posted by phoebeg at 01:07 PM | Comments (0)
i've been thinking about love
and what it might be
Posted by phoebeg at 01:07 PM | Comments (0)
24: it seems so simple
Posted by phoebeg at 01:06 PM | Comments (0)
25: dejection is not my middle name
Posted by phoebeg at 01:06 PM | Comments (0)
26: i'm supposed to be out on the street
Posted by phoebeg at 01:05 PM | Comments (0)
27: PipSqueak never rests
Posted by phoebeg at 01:05 PM | Comments (0)
28: what we like to do, see,
Posted by phoebeg at 01:04 PM | Comments (0)
29: it's only my friends Harvey Pekar and Joyce Brabner
Posted by phoebeg at 01:04 PM | Comments (0)
30: they were arguing about hedgehogs
Posted by phoebeg at 01:03 PM | Comments (0)
January 30, 2007
31: ira
Posted by phoebeg at 10:42 PM | Comments (0)
32: hi.
Posted by phoebeg at 10:42 PM | Comments (0)
33: car dieu
Posted by phoebeg at 10:41 PM | Comments (0)
34: so tired.
Posted by phoebeg at 10:41 PM | Comments (0)
35: i feel sick
Posted by phoebeg at 10:41 PM | Comments (0)
36: is it horrifying, i ask you
Posted by phoebeg at 10:40 PM | Comments (0)
37: I think that what got me thinking about Tabitha and Chuck
Posted by phoebeg at 10:39 PM | Comments (0)
38: I did call her.
Posted by phoebeg at 10:38 PM | Comments (0)
39: tabitha and chuck
Posted by phoebeg at 10:37 PM | Comments (0)
40: for me, it's like looking at candlelight or pipsqueak
Posted by phoebeg at 10:36 PM | Comments (0)
41: the annals of pedagogy: 10.05
Posted by phoebeg at 10:34 PM | Comments (0)
42: I'd like to say something much more important
Posted by phoebeg at 10:33 PM | Comments (0)
43: i'm more excited than i will ever be at christmas.
Posted by phoebeg at 10:32 PM | Comments (0)
44: hi.
Posted by phoebeg at 10:31 PM | Comments (0)
45: a student of mine,
Posted by phoebeg at 10:30 PM | Comments (0)
46: the preceding is what i'd call
Posted by phoebeg at 10:30 PM | Comments (0)
47: behold the beautiful scullery maid
Posted by phoebeg at 10:29 PM | Comments (0)
48: again, again!
Posted by phoebeg at 10:28 PM | Comments (0)
49: buenos dias mesdames et messieurs
Posted by phoebeg at 10:28 PM | Comments (0)
50: The best thing would be to go to sleep early
Posted by phoebeg at 10:27 PM | Comments (0)
51: what indignities I suffer!
Posted by phoebeg at 10:27 PM | Comments (0)
52: and if i was not the man,
Posted by phoebeg at 10:26 PM | Comments (0)
53: goddamnit i wish to communicate once more
Posted by phoebeg at 10:25 PM | Comments (0)
54: a man who is serious about his work
Posted by phoebeg at 10:25 PM | Comments (0)
55: i have 5 minutes to become ready
Posted by phoebeg at 10:24 PM | Comments (0)
56: i could fall asleep more easily
Posted by phoebeg at 10:23 PM | Comments (0)
57: what could be better?
Posted by phoebeg at 10:22 PM | Comments (0)
58: now listen to me carefully.
Posted by phoebeg at 10:22 PM | Comments (0)
59: now
Posted by phoebeg at 10:22 PM | Comments (0)
60: as usual
Posted by phoebeg at 10:21 PM | Comments (0)
61: Mr. Perrin!
Posted by phoebeg at 10:21 PM | Comments (0)
62: Thank you for your comment
Posted by phoebeg at 10:21 PM | Comments (0)
63: it's too friggin bad
Posted by phoebeg at 10:19 PM | Comments (0)
64: things never stay the same
Posted by phoebeg at 10:19 PM | Comments (0)
65: it's nearly one am
Posted by phoebeg at 10:18 PM | Comments (0)
65: it's nearly one am
Posted by phoebeg at 10:17 PM | Comments (0)
66: like i said
Posted by phoebeg at 10:17 PM | Comments (0)
67: good afternoon
Posted by phoebeg at 10:16 PM | Comments (0)
68: not good.
Posted by phoebeg at 10:16 PM | Comments (0)
69: I was sick on Saturday
Posted by phoebeg at 10:15 PM | Comments (0)
70: oh my, isn't life gay?
Posted by phoebeg at 10:14 PM | Comments (0)
71: howdy!
Posted by phoebeg at 10:14 PM | Comments (0)
72: yes, it's true.
Posted by phoebeg at 10:12 PM | Comments (0)
73: as old as i am,
Posted by phoebeg at 10:12 PM | Comments (0)
74: SAPPHO: FRAGMENTS
Posted by phoebeg at 10:11 PM | Comments (0)
75: i have 3 brothers, a sister, and a step-sister
Posted by phoebeg at 10:10 PM | Comments (0)
76: I'm sad
Posted by phoebeg at 10:09 PM | Comments (0)
77: OK all you motherfuckers
Posted by phoebeg at 10:09 PM | Comments (0)
78: a message for art 300 students
Posted by phoebeg at 10:08 PM | Comments (0)
79: a day with my dog.
Posted by phoebeg at 10:07 PM | Comments (0)
80: if your teacher were gone for a week. I mean, if your teacher was gone a week.
Posted by phoebeg at 10:06 PM | Comments (0)
81: i am too tired to go to sleep
Posted by phoebeg at 10:06 PM | Comments (0)
82: i do
Posted by phoebeg at 10:05 PM | Comments (0)
83: well, you know, maybe I'm angry after all.
Posted by phoebeg at 10:05 PM | Comments (0)
84: I'll never leave you again.
Posted by phoebeg at 10:04 PM | Comments (0)
85: speaking over the airwaves on sunday
Posted by phoebeg at 10:02 PM | Comments (0)
86: off to california
Posted by phoebeg at 09:55 PM | Comments (0)
87: the mother suffers
Posted by phoebeg at 09:54 PM | Comments (0)
88: hola
Posted by phoebeg at 09:53 PM | Comments (0)
89: boo hoo
Posted by phoebeg at 09:53 PM | Comments (0)
90: grrrrrrrrrrrrrock 'em sock 'em
Posted by phoebeg at 09:51 PM | Comments (0)
91: middle school rock and roll talent show
Posted by phoebeg at 09:51 PM | Comments (0)
92: graduation day
Posted by phoebeg at 09:50 PM | Comments (0)
93: Wellesley College
Posted by phoebeg at 09:50 PM | Comments (0)
94: ok then i am a jerk
Posted by phoebeg at 09:50 PM | Comments (0)
95: more wildlife
Posted by phoebeg at 09:49 PM | Comments (0)
96: this is my mother's dog
Posted by phoebeg at 09:49 PM | Comments (0)
97: Baltimoreans, excuse me.
Posted by phoebeg at 09:48 PM | Comments (0)
98: Join me
Posted by phoebeg at 09:47 PM | Comments (0)
99: Baltimorians
Posted by phoebeg at 09:47 PM | Comments (0)
100: I loved speaking at Johns Hopkins.
Posted by phoebeg at 09:46 PM | Comments (0)
101: My student Alisa Bischoff
Posted by phoebeg at 09:46 PM | Comments (0)
102: You talk too much
Posted by phoebeg at 09:45 PM | Comments (0)
103: long time
Posted by phoebeg at 09:44 PM | Comments (0)
104: Good News For Modern Man
Posted by phoebeg at 09:44 PM | Comments (0)
105: Ms. Khun has materialized.
Posted by phoebeg at 09:43 PM | Comments (0)
106: I ate the children's candy
Posted by phoebeg at 09:43 PM | Comments (0)
107: Comics are to literature
Posted by phoebeg at 09:43 PM | Comments (0)
108: By The Way
Posted by phoebeg at 09:43 PM | Comments (0)
109: I stole a microphone
Posted by phoebeg at 09:41 PM | Comments (0)
110: Do any of you know Chenda Khun?
Posted by phoebeg at 09:41 PM | Comments (0)
111: soon I'll be really really happy.
Posted by phoebeg at 09:40 PM | Comments (0)
112: I'm pretending to myself that I'm running away.
Posted by phoebeg at 09:40 PM | Comments (0)
113: Oh Good! Can it be true?
Posted by phoebeg at 09:39 PM | Comments (0)
114: And besides, I'm really sad because I just remembered one of the last really fun things I did.
Posted by phoebeg at 09:38 PM | Comments (0)
115: ok friends, enough is enough
Posted by phoebeg at 09:37 PM | Comments (0)
116: now it's all better.
Posted by phoebeg at 09:36 PM | Comments (0)
117: oh, foo.
Posted by phoebeg at 09:36 PM | Comments (0)
118: a man called "uncle ray" has it right.
Posted by phoebeg at 09:35 PM | Comments (0)
119: I want to apologize
Posted by phoebeg at 09:35 PM | Comments (0)
120: Hi. It's just me again.
Posted by phoebeg at 09:33 PM | Comments (0)
120: Do they like each other?
Posted by phoebeg at 09:33 PM | Comments (0)
121: Do they like each other?
Posted by phoebeg at 09:32 PM | Comments (0)
122: people come into your life
Posted by phoebeg at 09:32 PM | Comments (0)
123: oh man.
Posted by phoebeg at 09:31 PM | Comments (0)
124: surgery
Posted by phoebeg at 09:31 PM | Comments (0)
125: NEWS!
Posted by phoebeg at 09:30 PM | Comments (0)
126: it's been so long
Posted by phoebeg at 09:29 PM | Comments (0)
127: stop it stop it stop it
Posted by phoebeg at 09:29 PM | Comments (0)
128: my friends, the fact is
Posted by phoebeg at 09:28 PM | Comments (0)
129: would you look at that!
Posted by phoebeg at 09:28 PM | Comments (0)
130: schadenfreude
Posted by phoebeg at 09:27 PM | Comments (0)
131: Her actual name is Mildred
Posted by phoebeg at 09:25 PM | Comments (0)
132: Name one thing more lovely.
Posted by phoebeg at 12:47 PM | Comments (0)
133: How perplexedly long-winded and confused I feel.
Posted by phoebeg at 12:47 PM | Comments (0)
134: A brief brush with a well-spoken man
Posted by phoebeg at 12:42 PM | Comments (0)
135: Look at this, my friends:
Posted by phoebeg at 12:42 PM | Comments (0)
136: pip is captured on camera phone
Posted by phoebeg at 12:41 PM | Comments (0)
137: Now, that looks like a good book.
Posted by phoebeg at 12:40 PM | Comments (0)
138: Enough! Enough of that talk!
Posted by phoebeg at 12:40 PM | Comments (0)
139: Hi. I am Pip's Friend.
Posted by phoebeg at 12:40 PM | Comments (0)
140: I'm so happy that I'll introduce you to a friend of PipSqueak.
Posted by phoebeg at 12:39 PM | Comments (0)
141: What a relief!
Posted by phoebeg at 12:39 PM | Comments (0)
142: Yee-ha!
Posted by phoebeg at 12:38 PM | Comments (0)
143: "I'm not talkin' about puttin' an apron on David here"
Posted by phoebeg at 12:37 PM | Comments (0)
144: And this is something else
Posted by phoebeg at 12:37 PM | Comments (0)
145: this
Posted by phoebeg at 12:37 PM | Comments (0)
146: A SOLICITATION
Posted by phoebeg at 12:35 PM | Comments (0)
147: I'd like to invite you to my office at the University.
Posted by phoebeg at 12:35 PM | Comments (0)
148: I've a new dollie
Posted by phoebeg at 12:34 PM | Comments (0)
149: Niagara Falls
Posted by phoebeg at 12:34 PM | Comments (0)
150: I'd like to tell you something you've never heard before.
Posted by phoebeg at 12:33 PM | Comments (0)
151: he flatters me with his constancy.
My small pet is a great comfort to me.
Main Entry: pip
Function: noun
Etymology: origin unknown
1 a : one of the dots used on dice and dominoes to indicate numerical value
Posted by phoebeg at 12:23 PM | Comments (0)