hrm

Justice does happen...in a strange way.
John Geoghan the priest who molest all of those children in Mass. was strangled in prison.

I don't support the death penalty, but I must say, what one deserves does come their way eventually.


.....


I have a slight hangover. I am sitting infront of the computer wearing my sunglasses.

okay

Oh yeah, I did something interesting last night that I can't even blame on my drinking.

I spilled a drink. I have never done that before at a party. I happen to have a slight tremor and sometimes my hands kind of give out. My mother understands, since she has something similar.

Thankfully, there was some oxyclean, and a very very fun man name Michael who helped me remove the stain.

The cocktail party was most amusing. Elizabeth knows some very fun people. Most of which seem to be men. Most of which seem to be very very cute.
She fed us terrific food (which I know she was worried about) Made wickedly strong drinks and I heard one of the funniest lines last night, "of course he was gay, he owns a kitchen-aid."

That had my laughing all evening.

Plus my outfit was terrific! Pearls, super high heels, and lot's of leg.

I think I am going to lie on the sofa, listen to the calming tones of Charles Osgood and think about how I get to see Howard Dean today.
WOo

and so the truth comes out.

Today on this lazy day I am being interviewed by jbonne He is well known for his wit, his ability to make a mighty fine cup of coffee and his hatred of the Ford "aspire".

Growing up where you did, what would you say is the most surreal thing you encountered?

The entire experience was surreal. I can cite a few examples. When I was about four years old I was standing outside a bookshop eating a doughnut. My mother was inside looking at books, food was not allowed inside and the town was so unbelievably safe that a four year old could stand outside enjoying her sugary treat. The surreal part was a yuppie tourist coming up to me and asking if he could take my photograph. I remember thinking he was kind of weird and wondered if they didn't have any kids where he lived. I looked at him with disgust and said, "go away, I can't talk to strangers." He asked a couple of more times and I ran inside.
It was surreal in retrospect that some ass-face felt compelled to photograph some small child in a small town in the United States like she was one of those beggar children you might encounter in Casablanca or something. I should point out that as a small child I looked like some wild gyspy with my dresses, curly dark hair and big eyes.

more surreal moments: hanging out in my father's restaurant with a lot of boat people from Australia, Tazmania...everywhere in the world and living it up. I ate lot's of crazy food, talked to boatbuilders, artists, musicians, hacks, sailors, bikers with absolute ease. Most of them would be quite drunk and feed me french fries while I chattered at length about my dolls, my ballet classes, boats, painting, food I liked to eat.

The house I grew up in. We had teenaged boys hanging out singing, gay men who kissed openly, parties with actors, writers...hacks.

The number of people I knew whose fathers had sex change operations, came out as gay or completely went insane and left their wives.
That was pretty surreal to observe.

You're invited to compete on "Iron Chef," with its unlimited budget. Your food is ... LOBSTER. (ha!) Quick, what's your menu?

Okay first I would start off with a lobster and rattle snake starter. It would be a salad of seafood and reptile qualities and at one point you set fire to everything really quickly to give it browned quality and then toss it together with basil.

The soup would be a traditional lobster bisque because everyone likes that. But I might mess with the presentation a bit and serve it in a small pumpkin shell, and within the stock I would add pureed pumpkin (strained of course) and up the cheese factor.

The main dish? I would take a Daliesque approach with a touch of Schiapparelli. I would lay the lobster out on a bed of puffed pastry made to look like the famous dress Schiapparelli designed with Dali in mind. The puff pastry would be filled with truffles and fois gras.

Everyone would have an orgy afterwards.

What's the next job you'd like to have/

a food writer, or personal assistant to Jeffery Steingarten. I am good at dealing with men who act like babies, and I am patient and like to eat.
Or a part time farmer of heirloom vegetables and flowers.

Would you rather be on the road of excess or living in the palace of wisdom?

Well, I have gone down the road of excess enough, I think it is time to have that palace of wisdom. I figure with that bit of wisdom I can make my excessive behavior a little more well-thought out and successful.

So really, why are British boys better?

They have some of the qualities of a gay man without the heartache of knowing he will never love you, just your taste in shoes.
Though you have to be careful, you might end up with Noel Coward and be at square one and have a man who adores you, but doesn't want to fuck you.

Also accents are always intriguing. Cheap I know.

My mother will be so proud.

I went to the Howard Dean rally. It was all that and more.

Though I have a few....comments.

I think singing is fine and dandy, but it truly it doesn't help your cause with "original" songs that are a little self-righteous about peace and America.
I am a little bored with the "cruncher liberal for Dean" stuff. You don't win any friends and especially middle America by being patronizing about the cause.
If you really want to help, do something like hang out with Biff and Earl and talk trucks and the loss of their factory jobs instead of preaching at them. They may not dig Pesto sauce and NPR, but they sure know a lot more about surviving then most others do.

Oh yeah...learn the other lyrics to "This Land is Your Land". Singing the first verse three times shows your lack of knowledge.
That is one of my favorite songs, and the other lyrics are just as important.
Infact they are poetic and inspirational.

Howard Dean was a truly terrific speaker. He has the zeal of an evangelical. *laughs* Funny thing about political rallies. They make me think of pentacostal revival meetings. I almost expect someone to speak in tongues and roll around on the floor filled with the spirit.

Yes yes...I know my cynical readers will have alot to say about not getting myself worked up over some guy running for president.
What is wrong with a little hope and joy in someone and something?

I happen to agree with him on a number of issues he brings up.

The energy of the crowd was definitely fun and there were a lot of people there.
Andrew came with me and he said it was more like a rock concert.

He has truly been introduced to American culture.

I sat on the ground at westlake park. I am that hardcore.

Oh let us play with a new useless user icon shall we?

Pizza, really ice cold coca cola, and gorgeous sunsets.
This is what summer is.