  Art Retreats Blog Parties |
Many years ago, when I was a senior in high school, I performed a monologue from the final scene of Thorton Wilder’s Our Town. On Monday, my residents and I took a trip to the end of the light rail. We voted on the massive project back in 2004 (the year Chucklebutt and I moved to hell) and lots of folks said it would never work. All I can say is it was jam-packed (on account of opening day [...] My great-great-great-great (there may be a few more greats thrown in for good measure) grandfather was from Ireland. He immigrated to the United States in the mid-seventeen hundreds and his name was Joseph Gibson. Here’s to Papa Joe! I discovered this today and laughed my booty off. Is that a leprechaun? One [...] So, I’m all alone this weekend and I have the entire house to myself — not counting my feline companions of course. I’ve got to tell everyone that it feels awesome! Chuck is living it up in Orlando (he saw Blue Man Group last night) and I am living it up on our couch. I’ve [...] |
I am the Keeper of the Keeper of the Frog.
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