kate rothwell

Ohhh baby! Pup porn props. And boy1 made me watch this interview. Jon Stewart is too a journalist. Anchors and rporters (or maybe I mean their producers) should watch it and learn: Stop worrying about the image and do your goddamn job. What is your job? Big hint: It isn't about you.

I TOLD you I knew the gay agenda. Here's photographic proof, stolen from pam's house blend

home truth: a fact that is usually disagreeable, painful, delicate. an important truth that is unpleasant to acknowledge (as about yourself) 1. I am not sorry to see Ed, Edd and Eddy go away. I find the colors of their mouths disturbing. I still like saying buttered toast, buttered toast the way one of them does. The kids hate that. 2. I am a rotten housekeeper and not a particularly good cook. The cooking is better than the keeping. I might have been an okay cook at one point, but the grind of cooking seven days a week for picky eaters has destroyed any desire. I am fairly sure my husband thinks he can do both better than I can. I'm sure he's right about the first, not as certain about the second. 3. I spend way too much time on the internet. Way, way. And I'm not as sorry about it as I should be. Especially not when I find [interesting website to be inserted later because right now I'm off to create another dull meal] >great things like this.

at the moment here's why: Ten more easy pages, done PBW dedicated a whole post to me. melted chocolate and banana moosh is yum. Deans Beans coffee and it won't keep me awake Mike's reading Dave Barry to boys

Every couple of years I get a version of Athene. Not wisdom, unfortunately. A whole story SPROING! pops into my head fully dressed for the party and checking its watch because I'm too goddamn slow. I have to get it down fast before the characters get bored and wander off. So I'm writing like a maniac. I did post elsewhere. Learn all about porn! Or pron as we experts call it, because we can't type worth shit when we're in a hurry. Also, you know that thing about LOL spitting coffee you owe me a new monitor ha ha ha ? I really did have to swallow a too-hot mouthful fast this morning as I read Doug's blog. It was the Jerry Lewis one that burned my throat, curse you Doug. I got an 18. Be back soon. Maybe tomorrow. Or if I run out of words, I'll come over here and whine, whine, whine like a hungry mosquito

world's tallest tower planned for Chicago. rude joke about at last understanding why beth loves her city so much. or maybe something tried and true about "where do we insert the batteries?"

Last night I had an unusual bout of insomnia so, after plotting a couple of my own books, I moved over to other people's stories and did some post-story work on them. Mind you, the only books I could think of are the ones I love--those are the ones that stay with me. So I was basically taking these favorite, finished stories and trashing them. I blame what might be the onset of menopause or just plain pissant attitude. Take True Love and add the everyday wearisome habits of people and ta da! you have True Life. Beau Crusoe : In truth the author wrote a sweet, short epilogue that didn't make it into the book. I won't reproduce it here, but I wonder if Carla Kelly has it posted somewhere? A letter that makes reference to their trip to the island. The epilogue got cut because it seemed too real, or so I imagine. I'll go look for it after I finish this evil post. Right. Last night, I had James go after the spirit once too often during an important dinner party. Or maybe Su...