It’s not Christmas I want to end, it’s the blogosphere.

I NEED ZUZU’S PETALS!

Perhaps it’s been too long since I saw that movie. I thought Zuzu’s Petals were a line of stripper pasties.

Check your pockets.

Well, the petals aren’t there, but I did find a small bottle with a label saying, “Drink Me!” on one side, and “Mrs. Winslow’s Soothing Syrup” on the other.

Side effects include: drowsiness, pulmonary tachycardia, and giant white rabbits.

Oh dear.

You have a great site here. I have one myself where people from around the world come and debate on popular issues. I am telling you this because I believe you can provide some valuable insight to the readers and other debaters.

Also, I’d like to exchange links with you. If you agree, please leave me a comment under my “Compadres” page letting me know when you have placed my link on your page and I’ll return the favor.

Keep up the good work.

Jason
DEBATEitOUT.com

Also, I’d like to exchange links with you. If you agree, please leave me a comment under my “Compadres” page letting me know when you have placed my link on your page and I’ll return the favor.

Yeah, I’ll get right on that.

But Kevin! Surely you can see, as Jason did, that if you compare his DEBATEitOUT posts and ours, what simpatico partners we’d be.

My partner’s mother just left, or Doug took her back to Atlanta. I mean this from the bottom of my heart. She is a fucking walking talking Faulkner novel. She speaks in complete stream of consciousness and speaks only of the past. Example: “You know my grandmother she had that friend, and she said, because of that thing she had that nobody really knew about and it was Sunday cause I had on my shoes and Daddy got back from the train and she said she’s was gonna go down to Woolworth and get her some cotton panties. You know what I mean?” This is tame compared to the things she rattles off. It’s mind blowing.

There should probably be a special holiday declared for the 26th or 27th: Exit Day. Good-bye, Cousin Kim! Thanks for the year-end letter all about YOU! Good-bye, step-kids! Good-bye, Mom! No, don’t take the wrapping paper, you don’t need—-oh all right, I’m tired.

Jamie, having been raised in a family that could only speak “Samuel Beckett” and “Tennessee Williams” (and often only through an interpreter), my heart goes out to you. At least my people took less time to get to the point—or not get to the point, or recognize the futility of using language as a shared signifier of ultimately personal and idiosyncratic meanings, depending.

There should probably be a special holiday declared for the 26th or 27th…
There is one (in other countries, like Britain and Canada); it’s called “Boxing Day”

StrangeAppar8us. I like the Faulknerian Idiot Man Child and will bookmark him for future reference and in need consoling. Poor Doug, my partner, she really sends him over the edge. I just tune her out. He can’t. But we laugh about it after she’s gone. Cheers, Jamie