We Haven't Slept Together. But We've Napped

The Dark Side Of Blogging Is, Of Course, People Can Be (and Are) Just Savage And Uncivilized, Deeply Cruel And Fully Unaccountable.

But My Favorite Band Is Curbside Life, Out Of Chicago.

The Problem With Not Having Anybody To Tell You What To Do, I Understood, Is That There Was Nobody To Tell You What Not To Do.

So We Can Be Filled With Holes And Loss And Wide Expanses Of Unhealed Geography - And We Can Also Be Excited By Life And In Love And Content At The Exact Same Moment.

Women Smirk At Baldness. How Adorable Would They Find It If They Began To Lose Their Breasts In Their Late Twenties? If Both Tits Just Shrunk Up - Unevenly I Might Add - And Eventually Turned Into Wine-cork Nubs. Then It Would Be A Different Story. Then Men Would Get The Pity That They Deserve. As Far As I'm Concerned, Baldness Is The Male Breast Cancer Only Worse, Because Almost Everyone Gets It. True, It's Not Life Threatening. Just Social-life Threatening. But In New York City, There Is No Difference.