Recently, due to Arctic Blast 2007 (i.e. a quarter-inch of sleet upon these Dallas roadways), a much-anticipated night of drinking, fooling around and Sopranos was nixed. Did I sulk? Well, hell yes, I did. And then I did some more. But after that, pouting began to bore me and I hit upon a mission: I was gonna make a goddamn sock monkey. Why the flip did this occur to me? Well, I'd talked it up for many years, seeing as how my grandmother gave me one when I was six or seven and it was subsequently so cherished and frequently hugged that the tail developed a hole at the end. As it turns out, my friends listen to me on occasion, so I was gifted with this kit at Christmastime this year. Though my original hosiery simian was far more tricked out than this one, with a red gingham dress and hat that had lace trim, this nostalgia-fueled, red felt vested ape would do nicely on a blustery, pissy winter's night . Besides, the original mon-chi-chi was lost. Generally speaking, I'm n
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What about Milli Vinilli, or Paris Hilton?
He's probably a really fun guy, Amanda. I just don't like his writing much, other than Toy Story.
True, Jess, there are innumberrably more hacks who are rich and famous, but those three sprang to mind, and have been longtime irritants to me personally.
Also, I would've responded sooner, but occasionally Blogger jacks up with regard to me getting emails aobut people commenting. Sorry.