Tuesday, January 03, 2006
I think eggs smashed into and rocks crashed through vehicle windows should be enough activity for the bored, listless, and out-of-school slackers of 79912-land. Yet now I hear that marauding mailbox tippers are out and about in the darkness. Today, I arrived home and saw troops of neighbors sauntering down the street, inspecting the bases of their postal recepticles. I know we live in Texas (just barely) and all, so I suppose the little darlings went looking for a cow or two. Finding none, they decided to try and tip concrete and stucco mailboxes with their everready Fix Or Repair Dailies. Yee haw. So far though, ours looks ok. Although...we do have a bit of egg remaining on MJ's vehicle, a souvenir from All Hallows Eve.
Will there really be a morning? Braiding the lives of Frances Farmer, Britney Spears, and Sara Crewe
With attention on Britney Spears and the conservatorship that holds her emotionally, physically, monetarily, and psychologically imprisoned,...