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Nov. 17th, 2005 07:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mallorys_cameraThis may be the funniest thing I've read in a decade:
http://www.sfweekly.com/Issues/2005-11-16/news/infiltrator_print.html
In other news, I went for a longish bike ride and took the dogs to the beach, but mostly I spent the day updating the store website (Dear Google Users, Santa luvs hot sauce! But not just any hot sauce! Santa only loves hot sauce from Slow Burn!) thereby putting myself in temptation's way because friends, when I'm hunched in front of a computer for too long, I start doing the Bad Thing. I start looking x-boyfriends up on the Internet! X-girlfriends too. Then I start to feel massively sorry for myself: they're all doing so well! Shouldn't losing me have inflicted more permanent damage?
Let's see... George P, the scion of the Texas tug boat millionaire, is now a doctor, married to someone named Susan, apparantly a museum director. They reside in an architecturally significant home in River Oaks which they occasionally loan out for museum benefits. They have two lovely children too but the names didn't register. Steve R -- he of the famous exit line: "What won't I regret when I'm fifty?" -- is also a doctor in Nashville, Tennessee. (Did I have a salubrious affect on the people I dated in my twenties or what? My girlfriend, Ann D., is a PhD and a doctor!) I suspect Steve's bald as an egg now but alas! his reams of professional affiliations did not come with pix.
In the interests of discretion, I won't mention the details I unearthed about people I dated more recently than 1976.
I felt quite invisible reading about them. I think of them. I'm quite sure they never think of me.
http://www.sfweekly.com/Issues/2005-11-16/news/infiltrator_print.html
In other news, I went for a longish bike ride and took the dogs to the beach, but mostly I spent the day updating the store website (Dear Google Users, Santa luvs hot sauce! But not just any hot sauce! Santa only loves hot sauce from Slow Burn!) thereby putting myself in temptation's way because friends, when I'm hunched in front of a computer for too long, I start doing the Bad Thing. I start looking x-boyfriends up on the Internet! X-girlfriends too. Then I start to feel massively sorry for myself: they're all doing so well! Shouldn't losing me have inflicted more permanent damage?
Let's see... George P, the scion of the Texas tug boat millionaire, is now a doctor, married to someone named Susan, apparantly a museum director. They reside in an architecturally significant home in River Oaks which they occasionally loan out for museum benefits. They have two lovely children too but the names didn't register. Steve R -- he of the famous exit line: "What won't I regret when I'm fifty?" -- is also a doctor in Nashville, Tennessee. (Did I have a salubrious affect on the people I dated in my twenties or what? My girlfriend, Ann D., is a PhD and a doctor!) I suspect Steve's bald as an egg now but alas! his reams of professional affiliations did not come with pix.
In the interests of discretion, I won't mention the details I unearthed about people I dated more recently than 1976.
I felt quite invisible reading about them. I think of them. I'm quite sure they never think of me.
