Is there anything naffer than a tattoo of wings on one's shoulder-blades? The wearer is almost alwats crying out for a slap (or perhaps had one too few as a child...).
Yeah. Cherries. That would be naffer.
You know, I'm a bit worried about you. It's one thing to drown yourself in booze, drugs, anorexia, sex with married men, and general self-loathing. But Buffalo? Now you are just crying out for an intervention.
I know a rich man. Very rich. Easy to please. Lives in Boston. Likes nice ankles. Very single. I'm forcing the two of you to mingle DNA. For your own sakes.
Everyone's got something to sell. Only people I trust are empty-handed. "No religion" is just another religion. I need three drinks, stat.
"godless aspirations"? excellent choice.
Sunday at the airport was anything but earnest humanism. It was memorable, an engaging visit with a very bright and beautiful young woman and the most fun I've had in a month. On the plane I had a twinge of regret that we didn't talk about anything "serious" because I know you have serious ideas, radical even, but I got over that when I looked at this blog. Instead I'm glad that you talked about yourself a bit and your family too. Subject matter I can relate to.
I agree that there was not enough passion in the lecture hall this week. All scientists and no artists, philosophers and no poets. So just who is going to light a fire under them and us?
Ah...the passion was in the bar in the Marriott Saturday night. If you weren't stirred by the sounds of 80's pop and the sight of overweight middle-agers, then there's no hope for you.
BTW, I think you've received quite enough flattery lately. Was nice to meet you and hang out.
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