by William Shakespeare
To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day,
All in the morning betime,
And I a maid at your window,
To be your Valentine.
Then up he rose, and donn'd his clothes,
And dupp'd the chamber-door;
Let in the maid, that out a maid
Never departed more.
* * * *
Am in that sort of mood.
Happy Birthday
Discovered in the journal of
Must indulge in brief political fury, even though I can't stand the man: Ariel Sharon can be tried for war crimes but Yasser Arafat can't? Every time I think Israel is fucked up, I get a reminder of how little value the rest of the world continues to put on Jewish lives...
Am wondering what it means that I got four separate and distinct e-mails this morning telling me I can increase my penis size.
Not exactly, but not bad...gacked from
Amethyst
What Stone Are You?
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