Okay, I am nearly over my state of shock. I'm not going to write too much about Marlin because I get too sad, but I will say that if you ever followed my "acting career" closely you saw him many times, probably most notably when I was Dulcinea to his Don Quixote. I know, right? We lost something there, folks. I guess I can begin to be a little bit shamefully relieved that I never saw him sick: his voice was such a powerful instrument; it would have hurt very much to see him robbed of it.
He was the only person I've known who had more and a more eclectic collection of books than me. They are now a living library at his church in the mountains. When he was showing thm to me he said "those are books I loved in college, these are history books I enjoy, that's a row of fake spines I keep around so people will think I'm smart." We were friends.
Tomorrow I will be full bore back to entertaining you. Let's start with this: a sentence I read this week that said "before they called them 'alligators' the early morning air was often rent with cries of "Ye Gods, watch out for the Chompapottamus!'".
Chompapottamus is my new favorite animal. The new feral kitty (oh yes, still on the job) is a Chompapottamus, as is the Chihuahua next door. Discovery Channel just celebrated an awesome Chompapottamus Week.
Final point. If that Chinese gymnast is 16 years old, so am I.
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2 comments:
I didn't think she was 16 either, she was way too short. I hope everything is going alright, and I'm sorry that I haven't left a comment in a while. Take it easy.
P.S. Did you enjoy having the house to yourself?
Maybe they have a new torture device evolved from wrapping feet to keep girls super short? They wrap them head to toe every night before bed... Or maybe the Chinese just don't get as riled up about cheating, forgeries, and faking it as we do.
I'm sorry about your friend. :(
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