In heart what I am is wasted
"At heart, I am fairly quiet girl, who tries to do the right thing and tries to treat people kindly along the way."
These were the words of Monica Goodling, former administrator for the Department of Justice, testifying before the House Judiciary Committee. "I crossed the line," she admitted, when asked whether she sorted job applicants based on party affiliation. Much she did "not recall."
"in heart i am a moslem in heart i am an american artist and i have no guilt"
Patti Smith, the incantation that spirals into "Rock 'n' Roll Nigger." Could it be 30 years ago? Would that propel her onto the Billboard Top 100 Terror Watch List (with a bullet) today?
The thunderstorm just broke over the skateboarders who've been using Orange Street all afternoon as if this were Venice Beach, not 2007. The calicoes observe the sodden joggers with an academic interest. If they weren't litter sisters I think they might collaborate on a blog, but moments of unity devolve into padded spats pretty quick.
What about electric storms and wireless connections? I don't know about this. There's a lot I don't know. I would ask the cats, but they like to string me along.
I cleaned off my Patti books. I have no idea how the covers got layers of 1. dust, 2. something reddish and sticky, suggestive of vodka mixed with cranberry and orange juice, and 3. cat fur. But there's nothing a bottle of Windex and a "gently used" paper towel can't improve. Not in this world, at least.
These were the words of Monica Goodling, former administrator for the Department of Justice, testifying before the House Judiciary Committee. "I crossed the line," she admitted, when asked whether she sorted job applicants based on party affiliation. Much she did "not recall."
"in heart i am a moslem in heart i am an american artist and i have no guilt"
Patti Smith, the incantation that spirals into "Rock 'n' Roll Nigger." Could it be 30 years ago? Would that propel her onto the Billboard Top 100 Terror Watch List (with a bullet) today?
The thunderstorm just broke over the skateboarders who've been using Orange Street all afternoon as if this were Venice Beach, not 2007. The calicoes observe the sodden joggers with an academic interest. If they weren't litter sisters I think they might collaborate on a blog, but moments of unity devolve into padded spats pretty quick.
What about electric storms and wireless connections? I don't know about this. There's a lot I don't know. I would ask the cats, but they like to string me along.
I cleaned off my Patti books. I have no idea how the covers got layers of 1. dust, 2. something reddish and sticky, suggestive of vodka mixed with cranberry and orange juice, and 3. cat fur. But there's nothing a bottle of Windex and a "gently used" paper towel can't improve. Not in this world, at least.
posted by MM at 4:31 PM
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