:)

2012-02-16T17:21:00.001-08:00

“I remember walking across Sixty-second Street one twilight that first spring,
or the second spring, they were all alike for a while. I was late to meet someone but I
stopped at Lexington Avenue and bought a peach and stood on the corner eating it and
knew that I had come out out of the West and reached the mirage. I could taste the peach
and feel the soft air blowing from a subway grating on my legs and I could smell lilac and
garbage and expensive perfume and I knew that it would cost something sooner or later—
because I did not belong there, did not come from there—but when you are twenty-two or
twenty-three, you figure that later you will have a high emotional balance, and be able to pay
whatever it costs. I still believed in possibilities then, still had the sense, so peculiar to New
York, that something extraordinary would happen any minute, any day, any month.”

Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem

Gray Room

2012-02-15T22:56:00.001-08:00

Although you sit in a room that is gray,
Except for the silver
Of the straw-paper,
And pick
At your pale white gown;
Or lift one of the green beads
Of your necklace,
To let it fall;
Or gaze at your green fan
Printed with the red branches of a red willow;
Or, with one finger,
Move the leaf in the bowl--
The leaf that has fallen from the branches of the forsythia
Beside you...
What is all this?
I know how furiously your heart is beating.

Wallace Stevens

Recently, in cellphone pictures

2012-02-12T19:52:00.000-08:00

new painting, some pictures i made, dinner drawing, night stand buddies,

books and nail polish, cat phone !!!, candy, work clothes

The Emperor of Ice-Cream

2012-02-12T19:43:00.001-08:00

Call the roller of big cigars,

The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month’s newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

Take from the dresser of deal,
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

Wallace Stevens

2012-02-12T17:26:00.001-08:00

2012-02-01T23:14:00.001-08:00

All of this is typical girl-fear. Once you realize that The Exorcist is, essentially, the story of a 12-year-old who starts cussing, masturbating, and disobeying her mother—in other words, going through puberty—it becomes apparent to the feminist-minded viewer why two adult men are called in to slap her around for much of the third act. People are convinced that something spooky is going on with girls; that, once they reach a certain age, they lose their adorable innocence and start tapping into something powerful and forbidden. Little girls are sugar and spice, but women are just plain scary. And the moment a girl becomes a woman is the moment you fear her most. Which explains why the culture keeps telling this story.

The Season of the Witch

Wasteland Limericks

2012-02-01T23:10:00.000-08:00

In April one seldom feels cheerful;

Dry stones, sun and dust make me fearful;

Clairvoyants distress me,

Commuters depress me—

Met Stetson and gave him an earful.

She sat on a mighty fine chair,

Sparks flew as she tidied her hair;

She asks many questions,

I make few suggestions—

Bad as Albert and Lil—what a pair!

III

The Thames runs, bones rattle, rats creep;

Tiresias fancies a peep—

A typist is laid,

A record is played—

Wei la la. After this it gets deep.

A Phoenician named Phlebas forgot

About birds and his business—the lot,

Which is no surprise,

Since he’d met his demise

And been left in the ocean to rot.

No water. Dry rocks and dry throats,

Then thunder, a shower of quotes

From the Sanskrit and Dante.

Da. Damyata. Shantih.

I hope you’ll make sense of the notes.

The Garden of Earthly Delights, tidbits

2012-02-01T23:00:00.000-08:00

Hieronymus Bosch

Slippery People

2012-01-16T23:48:00.001-08:00

2012-01-16T21:01:00.001-08:00

In popular culture

In Gilmore Girls Season 6, Episode 6, Logan Huntzberger presents Rory Gilmore with a Birkin Bag in pink. When Rory, not appreciating the magnitude of the gift, suggests that the bag may be the perfect size for her computer cords, Logan suggests that Rory contact his sister to be filled in on the meaning of the bag.

In Transformers: Dark of the Moon, Charlotte Mearing (played by Frances McDormand) demands that her assistant bring to her a 'Green Ostrich Birkin'.

In Will & Grace Season 6, Episode 2 "Last Ex To Brooklyn," Will mentions being on the waiting list (for his mother, so he says) for the Birkin bag after Leo's ex-girlfriend Diane carries it in.

In Sex and the City Season 4, Episode 11 "Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda", Samantha Jones uses her client Lucy Liu's name to obtain a Birkin Bag without waiting on the 5 year wait.

In 90210 Season 2, Episode 5, "Environmental Hazards" Silver reminds Naomi Clark of the time when Naomi was at Hermès when the saleslady told her they sold out of the Birkin bag she wanted. Naomi said she called the manager and demanded the saleslady fired, they tracked down the bag and she bought two bags: the blue calfskin and the brown crocodile.

In July 2011,Pakistani Foreign Minister Hina Rabbani Khar brought the Hermes Birkin bags on her first visit to India as the FM of Pakistan and made headlines for it. The birkin on her arm was perceived by the media as somewhat odd during her political trip, considering she was representing a country facing an economic crisis.

In April 2011 a Birkin Bag was used in the YouTube video Royal Romance by The Other Guys.

In Legally Blonde (musical), Elle Woods's mother offers her "a nice Birkin bag" rather than going to the east coast to study at Harvard Law School.

On the Jay-Z album, Kingdom Come, the track "30 Something" includes the lyrics, "...coming back with Birkin bags. You're chick is like, what type of purse is that?"

In the book Everyone Worth Knowing by Lauren Weisberger, the main character Bette is having lunch with her co-worker Elisa when the latter spots someone carrying the bag. Bette is unaware of the significance of the Birkin, and is shocked by the price tag and the waiting list. Elisa informs Bette that she must get on the waiting list, and if possible, put her daughter's name on the list should she ever have one. She then tells her of a friend who, after finding out her name had been moved up 2 years on the list, decided not to go through with a suicide attempt.

Domina, Doreen, Dorma

2012-01-16T14:03:00.001-08:00

What month then, what spring or fall, what meaningless seasonof locusts and black flies besetting our town, flown in onthickening air, on sickening smell? And then, in the middle of itsdays, this chrysalis, this cocoon, found wrapped between us, tangledin our morning sheets, in the space where our toddling daughteronce slept, dream-thrashed, nightmare-ridden. Where she once clungto our skin, our heat. A chrysalis? I ask my wife. A cocoon? What’sthe difference when it’s your child inside, when it’s your caterpillar? We vow to keep it close, to sleep beside it, until it cracks, until itruptures. What cocoons are for: Until she emerges, no longer achild. What joy, to cradle my pupa in my arms! To rock it in therocking chair. To at last see the new shape pressed against thechitin. To crack the chrysalis wide with one hand, to force her freewith the other. To behold the dripping wings, the glistening thorax.To behold the head, the new mouth. To open the nursery window,to fill the room with those other black wings, other black legs, otherblack mouths, devouring what they can catch: only me, only whatflaking skin I have left. And then my daughter’s fresh wings, herspan of translucent amber. And then the flapping, the loose scent ofmolt dust, of moth smoke. And then the heavy touch of her hairylegs on my legs, on my hips, on my chest. And then the click of hermandibles, clipping locusts from my ears, knocking flies from mylips and eyes. And then my wife and I at the window, watching her leave.Watching her join the town’s other golden children, all flying a skyclouded shut. Keeping us safe, until the locusts run out. Until theflies are gone. Until the trees and grass and shrubs are empty of leafand branch. Until we run out of food ourselves. Until my wifedisappears. The rest of us shut ourselves away, whisper through glass pane,through locked door. You can’t ever come home, we say, but itdoesn’t stop the banging against our lit windows, our delicatehouses. See my only daughter: How big she’s gotten. How all grownup. And then her string of milky eggs across the window. And thenher caterpillars, hungry for what remains.

Matt Bell

2012-01-16T14:02:00.001-08:00

Lolita is 69 chapters long

2012-01-15T23:16:00.000-08:00

“There are two kinds of visual memory: one when you skillfully recreate an image in the laboratory of your mind, with your eyes open (and then I see Annabel in such general terms as: "honey-colored skin," "thin arms," "brown bobbed hair," "long lashes," "big bright mouth"); and the other when you instantly evoke, with shut eyes, on the dark innerside of your eyelids, the objective, absolutely optical replica of a beloved face, a little ghost in natural colors (and this is how I see Lolita).”

- Vladimir Nabokov

2012-01-15T12:03:00.001-08:00

"And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long." — Sylvia Plath

2012-01-15T11:59:00.000-08:00

Since the early 1980s, artist Hubert Duprat has been utilizing insects to construct some of his "sculptures." By removing caddis fly larvae from their natural habitat and providing them with precious materials, he prompts them to manufacture cases that resemble jewelers' creations. Information theory, as explained by biologists such as Jacques Monod and Henri Atlan, helps us understand what seems to be the insect's aesthetic behavior. The activities of the caddis worm, as manipulated by Hubert Duprat, are prompted by the "noise"---beads, pearls and 18-karat gold pieces---introduced by the artist into the insect's environment.

Hubert Duprat, rue du Four, 34270 Claret, France.

dreamy shoes

2012-01-15T11:49:00.000-08:00

"My blood is alive with many voices

telling me I am made of longing." — Rilke, from The Book of Hours I, 39

(shoe longing, obviously)

Girl Power

2012-01-15T11:23:00.001-08:00

‘Dawn’ (Fabric Book, 2006) by Louise Bourgeois, Sanja Iveković. Make Up—Make Down. 1978. Video.

Elizabeth Peyton

2012-01-13T13:14:00.000-08:00

eminem and pete doherty

The Manor Garden

2012-01-13T13:01:00.001-08:00

The fountains are dry and the roses over.

Incense of death. Your day approaches.

The pears fatten like little buddhas.

A blue mist is dragging the lake.

You move through the era of fishes,

The smug centuries of the pig-

Head, toe and finger

Come clear of the shadow. History

Nourishes these broken flutings,

These crowns of acanthus,

And the crow settles her garments.

You inherit white heather, a bee's wing,

Two suicides, the family wolves,

Hours of blankness. Some hard stars

Already yellow the heavens.

The spider on its own string

Crosses the lake. The worms

Quit their usual habitations.

The small birds converge, converge

With their gifts to a difficult borning.

Sylvia Plath

* * * *

and what a strange website

Springtime

2012-01-13T12:55:00.000-08:00

Pierre Auguste Cot

Important Ideas in rose and orange

2012-01-13T12:52:00.000-08:00

Images from http://emmacooper.tumblr.com/

(but lord knows where she got them)

2012-01-11T14:32:00.000-08:00

I like Buckminster Fuller. He designed lightweight buildings because he thought that the less you owned the happier you would become. And that included the weight of your house

Shell Phone pictures

2012-01-11T12:50:00.001-08:00

Green Eyes

2012-01-11T12:00:00.001-08:00

2012-01-11T11:56:00.001-08:00

2012-01-11T11:55:00.001-08:00

2012-01-11T11:52:00.000-08:00

Étienne Léopold Trouvelot

2012-01-06T20:52:00.001-08:00

yoshimoto nara

2012-01-06T20:38:00.000-08:00

dr. harold's cabinet of wonders

2011-12-29T14:49:00.000-08:00

after Simone Muench's Orange Girl

baton girl lizard girl show girl

rope girl gorilla girl pretty girl

bird girl little girl mermaid girl

dead girl party girl two-headed girl

weather girl gator girl strange girl

calendar girl spider girl bad girl

headless girl rubber girl cigarette girl

dumb girl call girl dog girl

tattoo on curtis, poem by kristy bowen

Transduction

2011-12-27T15:32:00.001-08:00

Live performance of Tenuousness by Andrew Bird

2011-12-27T14:44:00.000-08:00

Live performance of Tenuousness by Andrew Bird

2011-12-27T14:38:00.001-08:00

2011-12-27T14:36:00.000-08:00

In one piece I can peel a tangerine/ it takes several more to strip it of its naval pith

Its a simple trick, stuffing the shavings and sewing the shell with pale gold thread

Wounded, a gimp arm slung in a cast, it retains no water, only shape

Last in the bowl (green and blue glass) rolling about under the hallow pyramid

Succulent guts thick and wound, pinned to a collar pulse like a cockroach's pride

images by Andreas Schimanski

2011-12-27T11:55:00.001-08:00

Two little bags by me !

2011-12-27T10:46:00.000-08:00

Even the curtains feel heavy today, they’re pooling on the floor like they can’t bear it when I pull them back. There is no wind or naturally occurring movement in the sky, glowing the color of unseen green, just a silent sizzle. Beyond the window cactus and shell stand stagnant and electric. In this heat my bones seem to sink an inch or two deeper into the center of my body, as if they were iron and I swallowed a magnet. The drudging tick of movement compels me towards the kitchen where I cannot seem to form my hands into the shape of the cup I need to hold. White marble veined with black and heavy as my head. Apparently I am not strengthened by the heaviness. Trouble finds me while I let the conditioner in my hair settle, the recommended seven minutes. In the shower I watch the serpentine nakedness of my body move, shifting rapidly like a mirage. Hardly resembling flesh, more like the thick petals of a magnolia. I look down onto someone’s arms and someones stomach but cannot understand the process in which I was pushed inside them. Injected, like cream into a pastry, a bloated body. The freshly wet hair adds just enough weight to my mass rendering me unable to move from the shower. I stand there with my hands wrapped around my waist for a long time, though I reach no conclusions though the forced exposure.

shell phone pictures

2011-12-27T10:24:00.000-08:00

David in Central Park, new bags, delicious breakfast, taxidermy clutter

2011-12-05T09:22:00.001-08:00

“I began to think vodka was my drink at last. It didn’t taste like anything, but it went straight down into my stomach like a sword swallowers’ sword and made me feel powerful and godlike.”

—	Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

Jenny Holzer

2011-12-05T09:20:00.001-08:00

Jenny Holzer, sticker from the Survival series (1983–85).

2011-12-05T08:16:00.001-08:00

Tom Robbins - Jitterbug Perfume

2011-12-05T08:06:00.001-08:00

THE BEET IS THE MOST INTENSE of vegetables.

The radish, admittedly, is more feverish, but the fire of the radish is a cold fire, the

fire of discontent not of passion. Tomatoes are lusty enough, yet there runs through

tomatoes an undercurrent of frivolity. Beets are deadly serious.

Slavic peoples get their physical characteristics from potatoes, their smoldering

inquietude from radishes, their seriousness from beets.

The beet is the melancholy vegetable, the one most willing to suffer. You can't

squeeze blood out of a

turnip . . .

The beet is the murderer returned to the scene of the crime. The beet is what happens

when the cherry finishes with the carrot. The beet is the ancient ancestor of the

autumn moon, bearded, buried, all but fossilized; the dark green sails of the grounded

moon-boat stitched with veins of primordial plasma; the kite string that once

connected the moon to the Earth now a muddy whisker drilling desperately for rubies.

The beet was Rasputin's favorite vegetable. You could see it in his eyes.

In Europe there is grown widely a large beet they call the

mangel-wurzel.

Perhaps it is

mangel-wurzel

that we see in Rasputin. Certainly there is

mangel-wurzel

in the music

of Wagner, although it is another composer whose name begins, B-e-e-t——.

Of course, there are white beets, beets that ooze sugar water instead of blood, but it is

the red beet with which we are concerned; the variety that blushes and swells like a

hemorrhoid, a hemorrhoid for which there is no cure. (Actually, there is one remedy:

commission a potter to make you a ceramic asshole—and when you aren't sitting on

it, you can use it as a bowl for borscht.)

An old Ukrainian proverb warns, "A tale that begins with a beet will end with the

devil."

That is a risk we have to take.

Bone

2011-12-05T08:03:00.000-08:00

2011-12-05T07:59:00.000-08:00

"All of this is typical girl-fear. Once you realize that The Exorcist is, essentially, the story of a 12-year-old who starts cussing, masturbating, and disobeying her mother—in other words, going through puberty—it becomes apparent to the feminist-minded viewer why two adult men are called in to slap her around for much of the third act. People are convinced that something spooky is going on with girls; that, once they reach a certain age, they lose their adorable innocence and start tapping into something powerful and forbidden. Little girls are sugar and spice, but women are just plain scary. And the moment a girl becomes a woman is the moment you fear her most. Which explains why the culture keeps telling this story." —Rookie | » The Season of the Witch

2011-12-04T22:35:00.001-08:00

mosquito headquarters

honeymoon/honeycomb

eyecatching cornmeal

buttermilk/buttercup

brainwash bellboy

sideburns ponytail

shortbread

cheesecake

sixfold starfish daisywheel

catwalk

******

2011-12-04T22:34:00.000-08:00

words that bother my friends:

2011-12-04T22:32:00.000-08:00

moist, chocolates, chest, poops, supple

a sentence that would bother anyone:

the poops on his supple chest were the same color as moist chocolates

2011-12-04T22:31:00.002-08:00

2011-12-04T22:31:00.000-08:00

2011-12-04T22:30:00.001-08:00

2011-12-04T22:30:00.000-08:00

henry darger and mystery pictures

2011-12-04T22:27:00.002-08:00

the inside of my body looks like

2011-12-04T22:27:00.001-08:00

HEAD CHEESE

result highlights

2011-12-04T22:27:00.000-08:00

what is your earliest memory?

watching my mother and father cook together over the stove in the kitchen.

the walls were yellow. they were happy. i was in a high chair.

we went to san mateo to get our hair cut because it was the only place in

the bay area that would cut my brother's hair without drugging him first

it took like an hour and a half to drive there and afterwards we went to a

park and i got a sonic the hedgehog ice cream cone from an ice cream truck

and it had gumballs for eyes i gave it to my dad to hold but i didnt know it

would melt and i went off to play and when i came back hed eaten it!!!

standing on concrete in the sun holding my mom's hand.

i think we were at disneyland. i was too little to ride the matterhorn, or w/e

My third birthday party. I wore a blue and white striped one-piece

and threw mud pies at trees. My half sister even came!

getting the wind knocked out of my by my brother

2011-12-04T22:26:00.000-08:00

you were trying to explain away angels as static in the temporal lobe
deities as no more than electricity

orchid mantis

2011-12-04T22:25:00.001-08:00

2010-02-08T12:15:00.000-08:00

i can not i cannot i cant not

2010-02-08T12:13:00.000-08:00

party and bullshit

2010-02-08T12:11:00.000-08:00

Women want to chat

But all I want to know is where the party is

And if can I bring my gun

If not, hopefully I'll jump

But I throw my vest on my chest

Because black is a mess

They have nothing, but in front of

For me to start something

espionage and bark at blacks like duck hunting

Dumbing out, just me and my team

Cause all we want to do is

party and toromierda

Women in looking back just

In a dress I think I could

He was beaten with a little Biggie 101, How to bag a firearm

And have fun with Jamaician rum

Conversations, blunts in rotation

Jacques is my big pistol in his belt and

Smoking, drinking, thinking of the prostitute

Biggie If the stench that black money

Is it my charm? I eatin my Palm prostitutes

She grabbed my arm and said: "Let peace"

I am struck again skins

Laminate another Blunt has purchased a beer

Blacks began Loke Out, a child drowned

Shock and launched a fight broke out fucking

2010-02-07T19:48:00.000-08:00

the novelty of covers

2009-12-09T11:43:00.001-08:00

more funny than good

grace land (paul simon)- grizzly bear

jesus etc. (wilco)- norah jones

my boys (my girls by animal collective)- taken by trees

there she goes again (the velvet underground)- beck

you can call me al (paul simon)- jens lekman

a day in the life (the beatles)- easy star all stars ft. michael rose

kids (mgmt)- ben lee

naive melody (talking heads)- the old believers

will you still love me tomorrow (the shirelles)- lykke li

wolves (bon iver)- ellie goulding

download here

2009-11-28T13:57:00.000-08:00

There Is Pleasure In The Pathless Woods, Lord George Gordon Byron

ed van elk skin

2009-11-19T22:21:00.001-08:00

ed van der elsken

silver mine, silver mine

2009-11-19T21:40:00.001-08:00

silver miners offer the "mine devil" cigarettes, cocoa

leaves and pure alcohol to keep themselves safe

children who smoke

2009-10-09T09:02:00.000-07:00

2009-09-22T17:47:00.000-07:00

melancholy impeachment

plump appearance figure

pearl spear

giuseppe arcimboldo

2009-08-24T15:34:00.001-07:00

(its anonymous)

2009-08-23T23:29:00.001-07:00

i-zone, matt bollinger, blade wynne

2009-08-23T05:49:00.000-07:00

nobuyoshi araki

2009-08-22T01:40:00.000-07:00

i was terrified to see that some white wolves

were sitting on the big walnut tree in front of the window

sergei "wolf man" pankejeff

2009-08-18T20:04:00.000-07:00

in the sunset of dissolution, everything is illuminated

by the aura of nostalgia, even the guillotine

weiki somers, milan kundera

2009-08-18T00:43:00.000-07:00

download GEORES BATAILLE story of the eye

2009-08-17T12:10:00.000-07:00

ed ruscha

2009-08-16T23:39:00.000-07:00

home!!!!

2009-08-08T23:10:00.000-07:00

favorite forever

2009-08-07T15:49:00.001-07:00

2009-08-04T13:54:00.000-07:00

latpt pragmatic v

2009-08-03T14:18:00.001-07:00

lack creamer and pony

a karma concerned ploy

a randy prom necklace

2009-08-02T03:20:00.000-07:00

2009-07-17T06:05:00.000-07:00

download

strange powers- the magnetic fields

easy beat- dr. dog

the plan- built to spill

summer babe- pavement

sunny sundae smile- my bloody valentine

swing tree- discovery

old news- dr. dog

touched something hallows- of montreal

worried life blues- the animals

sun lips- black moth super rainbow

mean monsoon- dan auerbach

fry bread- brightblack morning light

sun opens my eyes- wavves

knotty pine- dirty projectors

2009-07-17T05:59:00.000-07:00

benji whalen

2009-07-17T05:36:00.000-07:00

misanthropy

hubris

2009-07-14T18:21:00.001-07:00

2009-07-14T18:18:00.002-07:00

2009-07-14T18:18:00.001-07:00

2009-06-26T11:56:00.000-07:00

2009-06-26T11:55:00.001-07:00

Jun Takahashi

2009-06-26T11:50:00.001-07:00

things that will never happen

2009-06-13T11:53:00.000-07:00

2009-06-13T11:34:00.001-07:00

2009-06-13T11:27:00.001-07:00

ANOTHER ANGEL CAME OUT OF THE TEMPLE,

CRYING WITH A LOUD VOICE

"THE HARVEST OF THE EARTH IS RIPE"

AND ANOTHER ANGEL CAME OUT FROM THE ALTAR,

WHICH HAD POWER OVER FIRE

FOR HER GRAPES ARE FULLY RIPE

AND BLOOD CAME OUT OF THE WINEPRESS,

EVEN ONTO THE HORSE BRIDLES

2009-06-10T16:54:00.000-07:00

Fine. Great. Excellent. Wonderful. Perfect.

You look one hundred percent better when I can't see you.

I was a daisy fresh girl and look what you've done to me.

with shut eyes, on the dark innerside of your eyelids, the objective,

absolutely optical replica of a beloved face, a little ghost in natural colors

She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock.

She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line.

But in my arms she was always Lolita. Light of my life, fire of my loins.

My sin, my soul. Lo... Lee... Ta.

2009-06-10T10:42:00.000-07:00

whuddup corb

2009-06-10T10:37:00.000-07:00

2009-06-09T19:23:00.001-07:00

2009-06-09T19:14:00.000-07:00

2009-06-09T18:59:00.000-07:00

People in France have a phrase: "Spirit of the Stairway." In French: Esprit de l'escalier. It means that moment when you find the answer, but it's too late. Say you're at a party and someone insults you. You have to say something. So under pressure, with everybody watching, you say something lame. But the moment you leave the party…

As you start down the stairway, then -- magic. You come up with the perfect thing you should've said. The perfect crippling put-down.

That's the Spirit of the Stairway.

The trouble is even the French don't have a phrase for the stupid things you actually do say under pressure. Those stupid, desperate things you actually think or do.

Some deeds are too low to even get a name. Too low to even get talked about.

Guts by Chuck Palahniuk

jitterbug perfume

2009-06-09T18:44:00.002-07:00

Slavic People get their physical characteristics from potatoes,

their smoldering inquietude from radishes, their seriousness from beets.

i loves you porgy

2009-06-09T18:44:00.001-07:00

2009-06-09T18:35:00.000-07:00

the case of the mad mermaid

american idol number

compound words

2009-06-08T21:24:00.001-07:00