It's Bullshit To Think Of Friendship And

There's The Usual Suspects In There, Green Day And The Clash And The Smiths, Yeah, But There's Also Ella And Frank, Even Dino, Some Curtis Mayfield And Minor Threat And Dusty Springfield And Belle & Sebastian, And As I Flip Through His Musical Life, Getting To Know His Tastes, I Must Acknowledge That Not Only Am I Not Frigid, But I Also May Be Multi-orgasmic.

Books. I'd Probably Spend All My Time Alone And Lost In Books If I Could. It's Easier That Way.

Do You Want To Guess What's In Here?" I Asked Dash. "i Think I've Got It Figured Out Already. There's A New Supply Of Red Notebooks In There, And You Want Us To Fill Them In With Clues About The Works Of, Say, Nicholas Sparks." "who?" I Asked. Please, No More Broody Poets. I Couldn't Keep Up. "you Don't Know Who Nicholas Sparks Is?" Dash Asked. I Shook My Head. "please Don't Ever Find Out," He Said.

She Told Me If I Clean All The Ashes Out Of The Grate, Then I’ll Be Able To Help My Sisters Get Ready For The Bal.” “it’s Christmas, Dashiel. Can’t You Give That Atitude A Rest?” “merry Christmas, Dad. And Thanks For The Presents.” “what Presents?” “i’m Sorry—those Were All From Mom, Weren’t They?

One Of The Failures Of Cellular Communication Is That Tiredness Often Comes Across As Sadness.