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In 'The New Yorker' ...by the way, Price is a steep $4.50.
...someone by the name --eh..."We declined the good-night kiss, realizing that the slightest spark could ignite the poorly stored munitions of out love."
The sketch has two shy looking potential 'lovers' making that 1,000 mile stare into where? A moon is above them in the sky, and a cat sits off to the side...
...someone ought to talk to George Bush etc., I say, do not kiss some people. Shy away and come back another day. Lies, lies...hey...your shoe is untied and your pants are on fire. I forgot it was P-and-P day. Yikes!
Merci ME, head for the hills? TGIF-Right! What fine hospitality! It's too bad, a crying shame, a good attorney's is far and in between a rock and a good hard place, at times like this, too? Mother, more purgatory?
Some days we feel like a motherless child, has said what's True. Gracious.