I know most of you are not over the shock of Adam Crossland 's admission (and proof) that he is human, so I beg your forgiveness for what I am about to do. It pains me to do so, but I must confess that I have also allowed everyone to carry false impressions for far too long. My conscience hurts, so I want to follow his good example and come clean as Adam so bravely did.
I am not on a porch. This is not a rocking chair or a wheelchair. That is not dirt on the side of the house; the paint has worn thin. (But for some reason, I kept those steps and the concrete animals in the yard painted to high gloss perfection)
Whew. I feel better already.
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Comments: 81
And I am not shocked!
My mind: blown
My notions: destroyed
My faith: questioned
Alas, is there no true mystery left in the world?
Okay...not paper mache so much as fiberglass.
Whew...that does feel good.
Joh, no problem, I'll get a new 'Y' from Dannielle's stash.
The story is not as sordid as I would like. I love sordid stories.
Actually we had to insulate the crawl space above a vaulted ceiling when I was a kid....about ten. I was the smallest member of the family, so dad made me crawl in. I measured and he stuffed the insulation in after cutting it to fit. At one point my jeans got stuck on a nail and ripped wide open......You can imagine the rest.
Your honesty has shamed me. Now I must confess:
I'm actually a golden retriever.
But I do cook.
I left the Catholic church before communal confession. This experience is making me think I might have left too soon. There's something comforting about so many of us coming clean together.
Becky, you're right about the glory days. I don't like how that implies that this only occurs in one's wrinkle-free, firm-flesh days. My apologies.
"Do you feel free now, Kevin?"
I do! I do! Well, except for this damned collar.
EB,
How can you say that? Here I make myself vulnerable before all and sundry and you throw it back in my face. I'm deeply offended. Pardon me while I lick my wounds -- and balls.
I'm sort of a jack-of-all phantasies.
Sandy, you are hilarious!
I was prepared to read one of your poignant stories!
;-(
;-)
You are very dear to me, but sweety? Frogs don't have hands. They have appendages.
Nancy,
To sleep, perhaps to dream...
Love and kisses to all. Send positive thoughts if you can. I am going in to clean my bedroom for my husband, as a birthday present.
If I don't return in a few days, send someone in with oysters and champagne, I might need the nourishment.
Either hubby will really appreciate the clean bedroom. Or, more likely, something will have fallen across my legs, leaving me immobilized. Since I have cats, I don't forsee any Lassie scenerios.
Have a happy night.
Discuss:
Oh Kevin! I love your imagry! is that a burned square of toastata? (I can't spell my way out of the salad plate)
If this is a confession, it's a major anticlimax.
Uh...did I say something X-rated?
Raw meat, arugula, shaved parmegiano, drops of balsamic vinaigrette. The flesh was firm, the greens were crisp, the parmegiano was salty, the vinaigrette was pungent. It was like eating passion.
I'll be back.
to..come..clean..woman...Tell..us..all..the.juice!!!
Food and climaxes is there any better way to go.
{Kevin, I'll take a helping of that passion, please}
Dani, did you get moved?
Thanks to everyone for having a good time with this. I wanted to lighten the mood but didn't expect it to go this far.
You want that with or without an Aunty Climax.
Interesting though, now that you look at it, you can see the truth of the chair, the non-porch etc. And yet, that's what we all saw. Or I guess what we all wanted to see.
I have to say though, I do love this picture of your Great-Grandmother. I always have. There's my conscience cleared...I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.
This is sweet of you and you know what? You look beautiful in either picture! Or, the same picture but I never knew or really wondered that you were in a wheelchair.
Hugs,
Marilyn
Liz, Peking Duck is a favorite, I presume?
Sandy, where's Aunty Smedley?
Marilyn, we will be surprised when we meet you and you're so much taller and less hairy.
And I think, technically, it qualifies as a rocker in the pacifying-old-folks sense.
So, technically, are you telling the truth about the chair Sandy?
Billy Jack Smack
Y delivery!
Sorry I'm late -- I've missed the confessions and the climax, but I know why. ;-)